


Fairy of Ambrosia

by sooboba



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - College/University, Choi Beomgyu - 22 years old, Choi Soobin - 23 years old, Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun-Centric, Choi Yeonjun - 24 years old, Choi Yeonjun Is Bad At Feelings, Choi Yeonjun-Centric, Dancer Park Jimin (BTS), Explicit Language, Fluff, Hueningkai - 21 years old, I made txt older because it suits the story better that way, Kang Taehyung - 22 years old, M/M, PhD student jungkook, PhD student taehyung, Professor Kim Namjoon | RM, Soft Choi Soobin, artist yeonjun, beomgyu has a crush on taehyung, florist soobin, im a potty mouth so my characters are also potty mouths, just enjoy the fluff for now, moarmys unite, musician beomgyu, older txt members, photographer hueningkai, soobin inherits his late grandparents flower shop, txt and bts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:40:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25047808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sooboba/pseuds/sooboba
Summary: choi yeonjun is kim taehyung's favorite art student. while pursuing his master's in fine art, yeonjun is currently working with taehyung to help him with a capstone project for his doctorate program; a music film titled, "fairy of shampoo."taehyung wants real flowers for the film set, and who is yeonjun to deny kim taehyung of what he wants?enter choi soobin; the sweet, bunny-like owner of Ambrosia: a well-established, family-owned local flower shop just off campus, who somehow manages to leave yeonjun breathless without even trying...... or is he?
Relationships: Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun, Choi Yeonjun/Jeon Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin, Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Taehyung | V
Comments: 33
Kudos: 79





	1. Are you gonna stand there and let flies into your mouth, or are you gonna come in and check out my flowers?

**Author's Note:**

> HI ALL!! THIS IS MY FIRST FIC!!
> 
> the idea came to me after reading a lovely oneshot jikook story about florist jimin and doctor jungkook by the ever-talented @annie_vi. go read her jikook fics!
> 
> anyway, to clarify some tags, I decided to age the txt boys a little bit to suit the storyline a little better and to also allow me to depict them in a more mature style. in effect, the our tannies are also aged, but just by a year! to keep the age hierarchy alive and well. 
> 
> I'd love to hear some feedback from y'all, so send me some comments if you enjoyed the first chapter! 😁💕
> 
> *also, not a beta'd work. let me know if you're interested in being a beta for my future chapters though <3

_It was in the middle of a busy lunch rush at their favorite tea house just off campus when it happened. Jungkook had been sitting across from him in almost complete silence for the past thirty minutes, picking nervously at his pastry and taking awkward sips of his iced tea as Yeonjun sat expectantly across the table, his legs and arms crossed at his seat as he narrowed his eyes on his unusually jittery boyfriend, waiting for him to crack._

_He already knew what was going to happen; in fact, he was 100% sure he knew the reason why Jungkook had called him to meet here out of the blue. They’d only been dating for a little over half a year and had met through Taehyung, a PhD student who had started out as Yeonjun’s South Korean Film TA during the first term of his Master’s program. By the end of the semester, Yeonjun had become a regular at Taehyung’s office hours and had somehow managed to secure himself an invitation to join the team he had been putting together for the final project for his Doctorate program._

_Jungkook was one of Taehyung’s good friends, a fellow PhD student majoring in Videography who had dropped by on occasion to give Taehyung pointers during practice shoots in the early stages of pre-production. A few stolen glances and a couple of conversations over campus coffee later, the two were as good as together._

_That was, until Jungkook started his own PhD project and Yeonjun met the star of his film-- one talented, handsome, charismatic Park Jimin-- Jungkook’s childhood friend and professional dancer extraordinaire._

_Yeonjun had known the moment he shook Jimin’s hand about a month ago; the slightest sparkle of sadness in kind eyes and the tightness of his closed-lipped smile was enough to tell Yeonjun a heart-wrenching story of years of caged love and silent pining._

_So to find himself in this predicament after over a week of silence, his boyfriend incapable of so much as faking a smile for him, Yeonjun could confidently say he’d watched enough romance movies for his Korean Film Studies class to know exactly where this was going._

_Jungkook looked like he was seconds away from having an anxious meltdown, and at this point Yeonjun was starting to pity his boyfriend._

_Untangling his arms and legs, Yeonjun straightened up on his seat, bracing his hands on his knees and letting his head hang as he sighed out. He peeked out from under his lashes to find Jungkook looking like a deer in the headlights; worrying his bottom lip so violently he could cut himself._

_“Hyung,” Yeonjun sighed, “You can just be honest with me.”_

_Jungkook’s head shot up at that, Yeonjun internally reprimanding himself for sounding a lot sadder than he intended to._

_“Really, it’s okay.”_

_Jungkook looked absolutely mortified, “Did… did Jimin tell you?”_

_Yeonjun let out an exasperated chuckle, combing his bangs out of his face with his fingertips, “He didn’t have to. I knew the moment I met him.”_

_His boyfriend frowned and looked down at his hands, his legs bouncing out of nervous habit._

_“You know, I really care about you--”_

_Yeonjun held up his hand with a dry smile, cutting Jungkook off abruptly. The older man’s legs stopped bouncing as he looked back up and Yeonjun expectantly, guilt burning in his eyes._

_“Write it to me in a letter,” he said, finding the courage to look up at the love of his life, who now had tears welling up in his eyes. “And for god’s sake, don’t fucking cry. Please.”_

_Jungkook couldn’t stop the tears that came streaming down his cheeks no matter how bad he wanted to, “I’m so sor--”_

_“Nuh uh uh,” Yeonjun stopped, shaking his head, “I told you to save it. Go to him, hyung. I understand.”_

_Jungkook closed his mouth for a moment, nodding hesitantly. Yeonjun leaned forward onto the table, propping his head up on his hands. He could only stare at this person who was so precious to him with a bittersweet smile on his face._

_“Go, hyung.”_

_More tears._

_Boldly, Yeonjun reached forward to brush them out of his lover’s eyes. The bittersweet smile plastered on his face._

_“No more crying, okay?” he whispered sweetly, “I want you to be happy.”_

_Jungkook nodded slowly, wiping the rest of the tears off his cheeks as Yeonjun pulled away to lean back into his seat, giving Jungkook a once over as if it was his last._

_“Thank you, Junnie,” Jungkook choked out quietly, standing up slowly and brushing his leather jacket back into place._

_Yeonjun only smiled as Jungkook walked away. He didn’t dare turn around to watch him walk out of the store. He simply stared at the empty seat across from him as Jungkook’s steps grew fainter and fainter, the gentle sound of bells and the click of the door in the distance queuing a bittersweet ache in his heart._

_“Yeonjun?” he heard in the distance._

_“Yeonjun… listening? … Yeonjun? Yeon--”_

Yeonjun jumps as an elbow nudges aggressively at his side, he blinks twice to find himself under the fluorescent lights of Taehyung’s on-campus studio. He glances around the table he’s seated at to find the other students on the team eyeing him curiously, Taehyung leaning over with his hands gripped over the edge, wrists facing Yeonjun. The PhD student looks at him warily, waiting for an answer to a question that Yeonjun was too lost in his head to catch.

“Dude,” the younger boy who owned the elbow that had just dug into his rib whispered under his breath, “He’s asking you a question.”

Yeonjun blinks dazedly for a second, “I-- uh, sorry I… spaced out,” he mumbled, “What was the question?”

Taehyung gave him a slightly concerned look through his thick-rimmed glasses, “We were talking about maybe having you head the set design for Fairy of Shampoo. Are you up for it?”

Yeonjun’s eyes widened at that, “Y-yes, I-I mean of course!” he almost screamed, suddenly sitting up straight in his seat. “Beommie’s been showing me the progress he’s been making with the song and I’ve already drafted some set ideas while listening to it on repeat! Hold on--” he reaches over the side of his seat to open his messenger bag, digging through a number of folders and pulling out a small, black sketchbook.

“The song… I think of children’s fairy tales when I hear the melody…” he mumbles to himself, flipping through his journal in search of the sets he drafted last week.

“Mm,” Taehyung hums affirmatively, “I was getting the same idea. I was thinking of something like an…”

“-- enchanted forest?”

“An enchanted forest,”Yeonjun and Taehyung said simultaneously, looking at each other with wide eyes for a split second before bursting out in laughter with the rest of the team.

“I knew we were on the same page, kid,” Taehyung said fondly, making a silly face while shooting finger guns at him, “That’s exactly why I put you in charge.”

Yeonjun smiled proudly, finding the sketches, flattening his sketchbook out for everyone to see, and sliding the journal to the center of the table while the rest of the team, along with Taehyung, leaned over to get a better look at his drawings.

Beomgyu, the young boy sitting next to Yeonjun, sat back with a proud smile on his face as their teammates cooed over Yeonjun’s impressive vision. An undergrad senior majoring in music, he was recruited by Taehyung in the middle of one of his shifts as a campus radio DJ, practicing some live jazz improvisations on his guitar at the Old Student Center.

The story goes like this: The radio room was a small hub in the building with a glass wall that gave passersby a clear view of who was working the studio. Beomgyu had just clocked in for his shift and had boldly opted for a live guitar performance instead of his usual playlist.

Taehyung had been walking to his usual spot at one of the campus cafes for his TA office hours just as one of Beomgyu’s signature jazz guitar licks started playing out of the speakers in the hall. Taehyung heard the lick, fell in love, and immediately dashed back toward the radio room; immediately spotting Beomgyu jamming in the studio, completely immersed in his improvisation.

Taehyung watched in awe as the young boy played; eyes closed with his head bobbing to his own melody, headphones blasting his eardrums, completely and completely lost in his own music.

Taehyung had been so utterly impressed that he slammed his entire body against the window with a loud thud, nearly making Beomgyu jump out of his own skin. He stared intensely at the young guitarist as the twang of his electric guitar blared across the speakers in the hall, students passing by staring awkwardly at the commotion outside the radio room as the two boys stared at each other through the window.

For the two of them, it was love at first sight-- Taehyung with Beomgyu’s music and Beomgyu with, well, Taehyung-- the raven-esque man in the beige vintage pant suit, navy blue ascot, leather messenger bag and long, curly black hair. 

“YOU’RE AMAZING!” Taehyung yelled into the glass, smiling enthusiastically at the younger.

Beomgyu was too busy admiring the work of art that was pressing himself into the window as if he could somehow materialize through the glass to realize that he was trying to tell him something.

Shaking himself out of his daze, he found half a mind to take one of his ears out from under his headphones to hear what the tall man was trying to tell him. Holding up a hand to his ear to signal to the other that he couldn’t hear, he yelled back, “WHAT DID YOU SAY? I CAN’T HEAR YOU.”

“I SAID. YOU’RE AMAZING. DO YOU WANNA BE PART OF MY PROJECT?”

“ _... WHAT?_ ”

“I _SAID_ \--”

Beomgyu laughed and shook his head, holding his hand up to cut Taehyung off. Removing his headphones completely, he flipped some switches to turn off the speakers and propped his guitar back up onto its stand behind him. Taehyung watched as he straightened his sweater out, shaking his head a bit to straighten out his bangs, before opening the door to step out of the radio room, walking around the corner to meet him in front of the glass wall.

“Kim Taehyung,” the taller man stretched out his hand excitedly.

Beomgyu reached out to reciprocate the introduction, trying his best to keep his hand from shaking too obviously. How was this man even more beautiful up close? Why was he even speaking to him? At what point in the past week did he fall from the heavens to come and attend this University? There was absolutely no way a man looking like this was walking around campus without him, of all people, knowing. He needed answers.

“C-Choi Beomgyu,” he muttered nervously, shivering a little at the firm grip Taehyung had on his hand.

“Your improvisation is amazing. Are you in music?” Taehyung asked, still shaking the gutiarists’ hand rather enthusiastically.

“Y-yeah… senior… undergrad,” Beomgyu blushed.

“You’re so talented,” Taehyung breathed. Beomgyu choked on his own breath. “I’m working on a video project for my final PhD project and I need music. I would love it if you made some music for me.”

“-- OF COURSE!” Beomgyu said a bit too quickly, blushing shyly at his own enthusiasm, “I-I mean, yeah, sure… I guess.”

Taehyung beamed, “Perfect. You’re perfect! Can I get your number? I’ll text you with more details, I’m running late to my office hours.”

Beomgyu nearly passed out on the spot.

Yeonjun had been waiting at the cafe for twenty minutes with his half-finished Americano and Taehyung’s usual order of hot earl grey (now cold) when Taehyung finally showed up breathless, talking endlessly about a boy at the radio room with the most amazing jazz guitar licks he’d ever heard.

When the two boys finally met at Taehyung’s first project meeting, Yeonjun had found the younger’s blatant crush on Taehyung absolutely endearing and Beomgyu had struck up an enthusiastic conversation about SZA after complimenting the taller boy on the oversized “CAMP CTRL” tee he had layered over his black hoodie.

In the past year or so spent working on this project together, they’ve not only become Taehyung’s two favorite students on the team, but an utterly inseparable and unlikely duo.

“These are perfect, Yeonjunnie!” Taehyung exclaims, grabbing the sketchbook to take a closer look at the set ideas, “It fits the vibe I get from Beomgyu’s melody perfectly. Genius how you sketched them with the song on repeat. I love it. Can you add flowers? I want real flowers.”

Yeonjun laughs, “What Hyung wants, Hyung gets,” he stands up out of his seat to bow dramatically to the older man, who bursts out laughing, “I am fully at your disposal, Sir.” Beomgyu snickers.

“Well I managed to finesse a pretty decent budget for the production,” Taehyung says slyly, wiggling his eyebrows knowingly at Yeonjun, who snorts in response, “So find me a florist and get me a quote. I want flowers covering the whole forest floor! All 250 square feet of it. Okay, I think we’ve covered everything for today’s meeting. Send us updates on the group chat per usual and we’ll meet again on Friday. Thanks everyone!”

After saying their goodbyes to the rest of the team, Yeonjun and Beomgyu leave the studio together.

“Done for the day?” Beomgyu asks, slinging his book bag over one shoulder.

His brunette hair is falling in waves today and, per usual, he’s dressed extra nice since it’s meeting day; today, he’s sporting some expensive-looking pleated brown houndstooth slacks with a vintage braided leather belt, a white dress shirt tucked messily into his pants and accentuating his narrow waist, the sleeves hanging unbuttoned around his fists and playing up his youthful aura. He’s got a simple stack of thin, gold bracelets of different chains on one lithe wrist and gold bands stacked on random fingers on both of his hands, glistening as he fixes the bangs on his face and slides a trendy pair of Raybans to shield his eyes from the bright, Spring sunlight.

Beomgyu’s already quite fashionable on a regular basis, just another hobby he and Yeonjun have in common, but he makes a point to dress _especially_ nice any time he knows he’s going to see Taehyung, who he’s had an innocent little crush on since the day they met at the radio room.

“I’ve got two more fucking classes… three more hours of bullshit before I can go home and binge watch anime like I don’t have responsibilities,” the musician mumbles, fumbling his wrist to check the time on his watch. 

“Sucks to be you,” Yeonjun snickers, “I’m taking my ass home… _after_ I go get lunch at The Square.”

“ _Mmm food_ …” the younger groans, grabbing his stomach dramatically, “So _hungry_ … can’t go on… might… skip all my classes to get... boba…”

“ _Don’t,_ ” Yeonjun warns, smacking the back of Beomgyu’s head playfully and laughing as the younger boy pouts intensely at him. “Just come over when you’re done with class, we can have dinner at my place.”

“Oooh, you cooking?” Beomgyu coos, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly at the older, earning himself another smack to the back of his head, “Um, _ow?_ ”

“Don’t be annoying.”

“Well just so you know, I could really go for that garlic pasta you made last time~ Oh, or some Korean food! I miss Korean food…”

Yeonjun laughs and ruffles the brunette’s hair, “I’ll check to see what’s in the fridge and let you know what’s good.”

Beomgyu beams, “Thanks hyung, see ya tonight!” he waves, dashing off in another direction towards his next class.

  
  


✿✿✿✿✿

  
  


Yeonjun takes a 10-minute bus ride from campus to the nearby old town area, called “The Square” by locals. It’s a quaint little old-towny section of the city that was popular with students because of its close proximity, quirky boutiques, and great food. Stepping onto the main boulevard felt like stepping back into the late 1800’s; red brick buildings with rusty iron gates and tall, white-paned windows gave The Square a unique charm that always seemed to spark Yeonjun’s creativity.

Today, he found himself window shopping; walking aimlessly past the amalgam of vintage boutiques, modern cafes, and The Square’s refreshingly broad selection of restaurants and bars.

Though The Square looked distinctly Old-American, the diverse demographic brought in by the local universities made The Square a salad bowl of worldly experiences, with people from all walks of life living comfortably together in this quiet little California city.

In contrast to the quaint, old-time feel of The Square, Yeonjun is dressed more like a Downtown Los Angeles native. Like Beomgyu, one of Yeonjun’s hobbies has always been fashion. Despite his starving artist/college student budget, he finds ways to save whatever cash he can from tips at the cafe he works at and odd graphic design jobs he finds online, funneling all that cash into his growing collection of unique clothing items.

Today, he’s put himself in his favorite black beret and round, metal-rimmed glasses with a silver frame chain dangling from around his neck. He’s got an oversized white tee under a simple tan blazer, the sleeves folded halfway up his forearms and hanging loosely over his form-fitting, khaki skinnies and sparkling white tennis shoes. This morning, he had proudly decided to tie the look together with his favorite leather messenger bag and a simple gold chain with a small, cameo pendant.

Mid-stroll, Yeonjun determines he isn’t terribly hungry but needs to eat, so he drops into the next cafe he spots, walking in just as a baker comes out from the back to set a tray of piping-hot almond croissants into the display. Staring dreamily and the wisps of steam coming off the fresh pastries, he relishes in the smell of toasted almonds and butter that fill the small shop.

“Hey there.”

A person from behind the counter greets Yeonjun with a smile and Yeonjun nearly gives himself whiplash from the double-take he makes at the sight of a tall man with broad shoulders and a full-lipped smile. “Let me know if you have any questions.”

_I’ve got one question_ , Yeonjun thinks to himself, _are you even real?_

Instead, nothing but a string of awkward “ums” followed by a vehement attempt to avoid eye contact at all costs is all Yeonjun can muster. The man behind the register can’t even hold back his laugh, making Yeonjun’s ears turn red.

“If you order anything other than those fresh almond croissants, just know I’m judging the hell out of you,” the man, who seems to be equal in height to Yeonjun himself, says jokingly.

At that, Yeonjun somehow manages to relax with a breathy chuckle, “No need for judgement today, I’ll take three,” he says, thinking he can have one now, and surprise Beomgyu with the other two after dinner tonight, “And maybe a cappuccino, too.”

The dark haired man nods with a smile as he punches in the order, takes Yeonjun’s card, and flips the screen for the bewildered artist to sign while he packs three almond croissants neatly into a brown paper bag.

The man behind the counter hands him his pastries with careful hands; one supporting the bottom of the bag and the other daintily holding up the paper handle at the top, “Let me make you your cappuccino, okay?”

Yeonjun can only nod dumbly as he observes the other boy’s unbelievably good looks and can’t help but stare as the man doses out grounds into a portafilter, tamps the mound of coffee carefully, and sets the puck into the machine-- a process he’s all too familiar with being a barista, himself. 

The handsome man finishes his drink off with silky, steamed milk and hands him the cup, “Have a nice day,” he smiles, flirtatiously. Yeonjun is definitely blushing.

“You too. Thanks,” he says confidently, despite himself. Being sure to give the cashier a sparkly smile in return before grabbing a single napkin for his croissant and waving goodbye as he steps out of the bakery and back onto the street.

He threads the loops of the brown bag around his wrists and holds his coffee in the same hand, using the napkin on his free hand to grab a single croissant. Returning to his leisurely walk, he takes his time alternating between sips of his coffee and bites of his fresh pastry, appreciating it’s subtle sweetness.

Yeonjun allows himself to enjoy this moment; blissfully walking in no particular direction, enjoying a good snack, and dressed in a solid outfit. All on a beautiful Spring day. Nothing beats it.

His mind wanders as he does, vaguely thinking about fresh ideas for the set design for Taehyung’s project.

_“I want real flowers… flowers covering the whole forest floor!”_

Real flowers, huh? In these modern times, flower shops are a bit hard to come by, no? It just seems like such an old-school thing. Yeonjun loves the idea of finding local shops around the city to source most of the things he enjoys in life-- he really doesn’t want to have to buy fresh flowers… _online._

Buying anything online simply does not appeal to one Choi Yeonjun; even the thought of buying groceries at a chain supermarket makes him gag a bit.

Yeonjun had been accepted into the university on a full-ride to pursue his Master’s in Fine Arts after the university art director had taken a liking to his unique style. After a couple of rough years post-grad spent working endless hours to perfect his craft and curate a flawless portfolio, Yeonjun was proud to say his hard work had paid off.

Now that he was fortunate enough to not have to worry about paying for school and board out of pocket, Yeonjun had quickly developed a penchant for shopping local for anything-- buying his clothes from local businesses or second-hand, coffee beans from local cafes, bread from small bakeries, weekly groceries from farmer’s markets… anything to keep as much of the wealth flowing into the community and away from nasty, corporate businesses.

But he can’t seem to recall a single time until now that he’s needed to buy… a _fuck ton_ of flowers.

“I feel like there’s something around here,” Yeonjun whispers to himself, his mouth stuffed full with croissant. He wanders down the boulevard for another block before his intuition tells him to turn right at the next corner. He vaguely remembers seeing a small shop sign in the shape of a pink flower in passing during his and Beomgyu’s last thrifting adventure almost a month ago.

An antique furniture store, a closed bar that didn’t open until six in the evening, and a garden-themed vegan restaurant later and Yeonjun found himself standing under the exact pink flower sign he had suspected from his memory. The flower sign looked sort of like a lily he had never seen before; two layers of three petals stacked on top of each other like a six-pointed star; the edges of the top layer beautifully frilled and fading into a soft yellow at the center. The elegant script curved just underneath the flower read, _Ambrosia_.

Yeonjun peeked through the large, arched window to find a forest hidden inside; large plants dangling from every corner of the ceiling; vines crawling over white, brick walls and beautiful bouquets of the most unusual flowers he had never seen before lined up prettily against the window. Excitedly, he headed for the door reaching out to tug firmly at the handle.

It was… locked?

He looked up at the window on the door to find a piece of paper scrawled in baby blue marker with doodles of small little flowers dotting the page. In cute, haphazard handwriting, the sign read:

_Out for lunch. Back at 1:00pm_ ♡

Yeonjun took a sip of his cappuccino as he admired the charm of the handmade sign, blindly digging into his back pocket for his phone to check the time.

_12:30_.

Yeonjun made a face and unlocked his phone, beginning to make his way back to the main street and making an attempt to kill some time by scrolling through his usual apps and checking emails.

_I guess I’ll just walk around a little more and come back at 1:00._

He had barely taken two steps away from the door, but, too preoccupied with his cellphone to watch where he was going, he had only faintly registered the sound of someone saying goodbye to someone else--

_CRASH!_

Yeonjun had walked straight into a stranger on the street, smashing the last of his cappuccino between their two bodies and spilling the now lukewarm drink all over the both of them.

“Oh shit my bad!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!”

The stranger had caught Yeonjun by the arms to prevent him from falling off to the side. Yeonjun was frozen; staring down at the mess he had made on both his and the stranger’s shirt with disdain as he gave himself a second to process what on Earth had just happened.

“A-are you okay?” the stranger asked, the honey-like voice effectively snapping Yeonjun out of his state of shock.

They both made an effort to stand up straight when Yeonjun finally had the sense to look up at the source of the honeyed voice.

(And then there were three consecutive surprises which will put Yeonjun in quite the predicament for a significant duration of this story.)

The first, was the fact that Yeonjun was already fully aware that he was pretty tall, so the fact that he had found himself looking _up_ at this stranger was… definitely something.

Second, the face certainly suited the voice. Without a single doubt in Yeonjun’s mind.

The boy looked young; just about Yeonjun’s age, if he were to guess, and he had soft features; chocolate eyes crinkled up into cat-like crescent moons, a strong nose, and bunny like lips that turned up adorably at the corners.

And just when Yeonjun thought he’d just come face to face with an angel, the boy fucking _smiled_ ; accentuating the soft look of his pinked cheeks and revealing two little dimples on either side of his beautiful smile. And suddenly the boy was beautiful beyond comparison to any ethereal sort of mythical creature in existence.

“Sorry I ran into you,” the taller boy said, looking off to the side while scratching the back of his head shyly, “I was saying bye to my friend and turned around and... there you were!” he laughed awkwardly.

Yeonjun blinked up at the boy, the shocked daze from earlier returning quickly, but for a different reason now.

The tall boy glanced worriedly at Yeonjun and made a little pout. Yeonjun melted.

“Um… are you okay? I’m really sorry,” he muttered.

Realizing he was probably staring with his mouth open, Yeonjun zipped his mouth shut and tried to blink himself back into reality, “Oh I-- uh no, it was my fault… on my phone,” he shrugged guiltily, holding up his damp cellphone, “That’s my bad.”

The tall boy frowned, “You’ve got a nice outfit on, too… I feel really bad that I got it dirty.”

Yeonjun looked down at the mess he made all over himself. So much for a solid outfit.

He musters up a chuckle, “Nah, it’s okay, really. I wanted to check out this flower shop but I don’t think the owner will be back for another half hour. Might just drop by my place to change and come bac--”

The tall boy’s eyes seemed to light up at the mention of the flower shop. “You wanna come inside?” he asks, smiling brightly.

Yeonjun looks at him confusedly, “O-oh yeah, but it’s closed right now, so I’ll just come back late--”

The tall man digs through his back pocket for a pair of keys, hopping his way over to the door and promptly unlocking both the deadbolt and the doorknob and enthusiastically swinging the front door open, making a point to flip the lunch sign to what seemed to be an “open” sign hand drawn in a similar fashion.

“Welcome,” the tall boy says with a smile.

Surprise number three (of course I wouldn’t forget) was that the gorgeous, bunny-like boy towering over Yeonjun was, in fact, the owner of Ambrosia. And yes, Yeonjun’s mouth was hanging open again.

“This is... your flower shop?” Yeonjun gaped.

The boy smiled proudly, “It was my grandparents’, and now it’s mine. So are you gonna stand there and let flies into your mouth or are you gonna come in and check out my flowers?”

  
  


✿✿✿✿✿


	2. He’s definitely the sensible type. Probably soft spoken, but you can tell he's introspective. Philosophical. Energetic. Totally a Sag.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soobin makes yeonjun a pretty bouquet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, i know, chapter 2 came in fast. I'm totally enjoying writing this fic! the ideas just keep coming to me.
> 
> as usual, drop me a comment and let me know what you think~ 💕💕💕

_Surprise number three (of course I wouldn’t forget) was that the gorgeous, bunny-like boy towering over Yeonjun was, in fact, the owner of Ambrosia. And yes, Yeonjun’s mouth was hanging open again._

_“This is... your flower shop?” Yeonjun gaped._

_The boy smiled proudly, “It was my grandparents’, and now it’s mine. So are you gonna stand there and let flies into your mouth or are you gonna come in and check out my flowers?”_

  
  


✿✿✿✿✿

  
  


Stepping into Ambrosia was like taking a portal into another dimension.

Immediately, Yeonjun’s nose was filled with the comforting aroma of wet soil and sweet, botanical fragrances. The shop was small and homey; the front of the store like a narrow hallway that stretched out lengthwise. The register was just to the left of the entryway; what looked like a handmade wooden table with a touch screen register and a beautiful display of boutonnieres and corsages splayed out on stacks of small boxes and vases. The display was decorated with dried herbs, flowers, and rough cut crystals of different shapes and sizes.

Turning his head to the right to get a look at the rest of the store, his mouth hung in a quiet “o” as he took in the sight before him. The brick walls were haphazardly painted white; with specks of red brick peeking out from under popped bubbles of paint. The ceiling was low and lined with rows of alternating fairy and globe lights that spanned the room lengthwise-- vines of pothos, ivy, and string of pearls crawling up from pots lining the shelves on the wall and mingling with the lights; weaving themselves through the strings and dangling their vines down any which way they pleased.

Along the walls were an assortment of vintage tables and shelves with no coherent style or theme, save for the fact that they were all made of wood or old iron. A tall, rusty barrel off to one corner held large jars filled with bouquets of ranunculus and eucalyptus leaves. A twisted shelf perched just off to the side of the large display window, with complex floral designs and vine tendrils of wrought iron in the art nouveau style, housed an amalgam of vases of all shapes and sizes.

Yeonjun took note of an old Radioflyer wagon stacked with upturned wooden crates and pots of houseplants; some had circular leaves that branched out from the stalk like little fireworks while others had long, exotic leaves with holes like swiss cheese. He had never seen such peculiar plants in his life.

Yeonjun spared a glance at the owner, who was sliding on a denim gardener’s apron from a hook on the wall. He watched carefully as the tall man reached into one of the apron’s many front pockets and pulled out a small white cloth, wiping down some of the large leaves of one of two gigantic Monstera plants that stood proudly on either side of a wide, arched entryway at the far wall like guardian statues. Vines of ivy overtook the entire span of the arch as if they’ve been growing along the wall for years; tendrils dripping down and almost making a curtain of leaves over the low-hanging entrance.

The owner inspected the plant, pinching at the stem to make sure it was doing well, before looking up to meet Yeonjun’s eyes with a gentle smile, “There’s more in the back, if you’d like to see.”

Yeonjun nodded, awestruck by the beauty of the real-life enchanted forest he had just stepped into. The owner laughed-- a refreshing, boyish chuckle-- and tucked the small rag back into its designated pocket as he cocked his head toward the back of the store, “C’mere and take a look.”

Yeonjun obediently followed the strange man, tiptoeing behind the taller one like a puppy as he dipped his head a bit to pass through some of the drooping ivy and peeking out into the back room.

To Yeonjun’s left, right up against the wall of the entryway, was a comfortable lounge area; a leather loveseat, a dainty little coffee table, a couple of mismatched seats and a beautiful rocking chair all sat in a pretty circle underneath a beautiful aged, red Persian rug. Against the corner next to a large bookshelf filled with books, vases, and little figurines was what looked to be a self-serve tea table; an electric kettle, three open shelves with random mugs; and a tray of tea bags, cream, and sugar.

“This place… is beautiful,” Yeonjun breathed, “How have I never been in here before?”

The owner, who was making his way to the tea table, laughed at that.

“I was asking myself the same thing,” he said, using a tone of voice that seemed to imply something Yeonjun couldn’t quite pick up on, “Mint tea?”

Yeonjun, ever the fan of mint _anything_ , nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, please. I love mint.”

The tall boy only smiled, grabbing a fine, porcelain mug with an intricate blue pattern and setting it on the tea table. Yeonjun watched curiously as he scanned his collection of mugs, holding his chin in thought as he glanced back and forth between Yeonjun and the mugs before pulling out a modern glass mug with a sleek design; the lip of the cup slightly narrow and curving out to a wide, round base. He fixed them both a fresh cup of tea and brought them over to the coffee table, setting them on two printed coasters with artworks that Yeonjun recognized right away.

“Van Gogh and Botticelli?” Yeonjun smiled, referring to the artists who created the two paintings printed onto the square coasters; the owner had set his porcelain cup onto a coaster with van Gogh’s “Starry Night” and the glass on the face of two of the three muses in Botticelli’s “Birth of Venus.”

“Ah, you know your art, I’m impressed,” the tall man laughed, “The one on The Muses is for you, okay?”

Yeonjun smiled, walking over to take a seat on one of the chairs and grabbing the glass mug, “You would think I do, considering my livelihood depends on it.”

“Hm. I thought so,” said the tall man knowingly, bending down to grab his cup and taking a small sip before setting it back down. He stood towering over Yeonjun and looked down at him with a peculiar look in his eye, “You look like you either make art or stare at it for hours trying to decipher it’s meaning.”

Yeonjun laughed into his tea, “Try both. I’m a student at the university here.”

The owner nodded, “I had a hunch,” he said, crossing his arms, “What are you studying?”

“Fine Art,” Yeonjun said decisively, taking a sip of his tea and setting it back down onto the coaster, “Master’s.”

“Oooh, smart boy.”

The blonde snickered. “Hardly,” he mused, “I just draw all day and make coffee for people a couple times a week.”

The owner gasped at that, “Speaking of coffee… your shirt. Do you wanna borrow one of mine for now?”

Yeonjun wondered why this man brought spare clothes with him to work, but it wasn’t hard to imagine that the job could get messy, “No, it’s okay, I don’t wanna trouble you for a shirt if you might need it later.”

The owner laughed, “No trust me, I’ve got an entire closet full. Let me go grab you one.”

Stealing a quick sip of his tea, he made for a large door across the room and disappeared before Yeonjun could stop him.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he stood up to give himself a solo tour, taking the soothing cup of tea with him.

The back of the shop didn’t even feel like a store. To Yeonjun, it felt like he had just stepped into a magical cottage.

In the center of the room was an old, wooden dining table with eight different chairs of random designs lined up in four across from each other. Instead of being covered in plates and glasses, the charming table was covered in a flourish of garden tools; dirty rags, piles of soil, used spades, the remains of long stems and stray leaves, and small pots of different colors and shapes scattered the long table as if someone had just thrown a wild, plant-potting party and didn’t bother to clean up.

The wall to the far left was covered in a variety of small succulents, with some empty holes in the display where he presumed customers had already bought some out. Mounted on the the low ceiling was a line of lights shining curiously purple beams onto the plants, giving it a mystical feel.

The wall adjacent to that of the succulents was the largest one in the store; rows of wooden planks supporting cylindrical, glass vases covering the entire span of the wall.

Each vase was filled with flowers both familiar and completely foreign to Yeonjun; organized in no particular fashion, but visually coherent and absolutely stunning. Smack in the center of this large wall was the strange door that the owner had disappeared behind; it was simple, made of what looked to be mahogany, with no distinct design and a spherical, iron doorknob.

On the last wall to his right looked like the utility area; from a large peg board hung unused spades and garden shears, rolls of colorful ribbons held up by a single white bar, garden gloves, brown paper bags, kid-sized denim aprons, and polaroids of customers holding bouquets or pots of succulents pinned onto strings with tiny wooden clothespins.

On the floor just under the peg board were giant hemp sacks filled with potting soil and perlite; dirty plastic tubs for mixing thrown into one corner, and tiny little watering cans neatly lined the remaining span of the wall.

Yeonjun was busy appreciating the adorable polaroids in detail when the owner reappeared through the door with a plain, black shirt.

“Pretty sure this will fit you; we’re not too far off in size, I don’t think?”

Yeonjun turned his head, “Oh, wow thanks… you know you didn’t have to. I live, like, fifteen minutes away and I really don’t mind going home with some coffee stains.”

The taller man laughed, holding the shirt out to him with one hand and opening the door to a single restroom in the far right corner that Yeonjun hadn’t noticed. “Don’t worry about it,” he smiled, beckoning Yeonjun over.

Placing his cup on a side table by the door, he shyly reached for the shirt.

“Thank you,” he smiled, bowing his head a bit out of habit before slipping into the restroom.

Even the bathroom had its charm. The walls here were unpainted brick, and an antique mirror with an oval gilt frame hung neatly off to the left side of the wall; a pretty, waterfall faucet mounted on top of a vessel sink and fairy lights strung along the edge illuminated the room sensually. It smelled like lilacs.

After removing his beret, he peeled off his blazer and shirt, hanging it on the hooks against the door and holding the unassuming black shirt in his hand. He noted the weight and luxurious feel of the fabric; ever the fashionista, he truly couldn’t stop himself from nosily thumbing through the neck of the shirt to find the tag.

“ _Tom Ford?_ These things are, like… four hundred dollars a piece,” he whispered, thoroughly impressed and completely beside himself as he slipped the t-shirt over his head, checking himself in the mirror.

For a plain black tee, Yeonjun had to admit it was probably the best t-shirt he had ever put on. The quality of the fabric made the shirt fall in pretty drapes, accentuating his shoulder line. The shirt was just a size up, giving it a bit of that trendy, oversize silhouette that Yeonjun loved.

“Damn this is a nice shirt,” he muttered under his breath, slipping his beret back onto his head, fixing his hair a bit, and grabbing his soiled clothes.

The owner stood just outside of the exit with a small paper bag in one outstretched hand, “For your dirty clothes,” he smiled. Yeonjun took the bag gratefully and neatly packed his blazer and shirt inside.

“You know, this shirt is _really_ nice,” Yeonjun said, “Aren’t you worried that I might just steal it from you?”

The tall man laughed, “With the way you look in it, I honestly couldn’t blame you.”

Yeonjun’s ears turned bright pink at the subtle compliment.

_Ah, fuck it._

“Y-yeonjun,” he mumbled quietly.

The shop owner tilted his head to the side, “Hm?”

Yeonjun willed himself to stand up straight and look directly at him, “Oh… my name… is Yeonjun. Thanks for,” he plucked at the shirt and held up the bag of clothes, “... this.”

The owner seemed to smile with his whole body at that, “Yeonjun,” he repeated carefully, something indistinct sparkling his eyes that Yeonjun couldn't quite put his finger on, "That’s a lovely name. I’m Soobin.”

Beaming, Soobin stretched out his hand. Yeonjun blushed intensely as they shook hands, noting how gentle Soobin’s touch was.

“So, _Yeonjun_ ,” Soobin began, “What brings you to my store? Looking for flowers for a special someone, hm?”

Oh, that’s right. He was here for flowers.

“N-no, actually,” the blonde laughed, fixing his beret slightly, “I’m working on a set design for my friend’s final project…”

“Ah. Okay,” The taller man nodded, thinking to himself. Yeonjun wasn’t going to read into it.

“My set idea… I wanted it to look like a forest. He said he wants flowers. _Real flowers_. Covering 250 square feet of space,” he laughed, embarrassed to be making what seemed like such a bold request for a tiny little flower shop.

The man laughed too, his dimples on full display, “Oh, only 250? I was half-hoping you would ask for more. I think you’ve come to the right place, then.”

The blonde had clearly underestimated this little business.

_That explains the Tom Ford t-shirt_ , he thought to himself.

Yeonjun nodded with a smile, “I think so too.”

Soobin smiled enthusiastically spinning over his shoulder to face the wall of flowers. “Well in that case,” he said, clapping his hands together, “How about I make you a little sample?”

Yeonjun watched as the florist began his process, sifting excitedly through his collection of curious flowers, “If you want to make an authentic set, I suggest you use flowers that actually grow in woodland areas..." Yeonjun appreciated Soobin’s thoughtfulness.

“... It’s Spring, so I’ve got some beautiful natives coming in from local growers that I think would be perfect… ah, here’s some wild Geraniums that just came in this morning.” He grabbed a few stems of small little five-petaled flowers in a purple hue that faded into a soft white center. Scanning a bit further up the wall, he reached for some bright yellow Poppies at the very top row, his impressive height allowing him to easily reach for a handful of stems.

“This species of Celandine Poppies is actually invasive, so I think it would be smart to use a bunch of these. I could find you and endless supply of crates full of these, if you asked. They're growing everywhere right now. And look at them! I think they're really pretty. The rosette leaves are really unique, too… oh and Bluebells! You can find these Poppies and Bluebells just growing in patches together in the wild. So pretty...”

Yeonjun couldn’t help but feel a sense of endearment watching Soobin mumble endlessly about his selection of flora, happily lost in his own process. The shorter man could faintly hear the florist humming a pretty tune to himself as he worked diligently to collect a few more, choice flowers; some sharp, white petaled flowers with puffy yellow centers Soobin called “Bloodroot” on top of bunches of what Yeonjun recognized to be Violets.

“Okay, this looks good for now,” he smiled, happy with the handful of flowers he had collected from off the wall, “Let me fix them up for you.”

Walking the flowers over to the long table in the center of the room, he gently organized them in a neat line, strategically arranging the selection into a bouquet held together by his large hand.

Yeonjun tried not to stare too intently at the way his deft hands worked quickly and decisively, trimming off extra leaves and alternating the colors into a beautiful hand-tied bouquet. Mid-work, Yeonjun noticed a flash in the florists’ eyes, who perked up at his own bright idea.

“Oh! I think I have Baneberry!” he said, rushing back to the wall with the half-done bouquet still in his hand, earning a fond giggle from the blonde.

“Baneberry?” Yeonjun asked.

“Baneberry,” Soobin confirmed, walking back to the table with a handful of stems with bunches of white, pearl-like fruit stemming out the top in clusters.

“Ohh, those are pretty,” Yeonjun cooed, reaching out to grab one of the stems from off the table and observing it closely.

Soobin was nearly done with the bouquet, busily snipping the ends of the stems for a neat, finished look, “Yeah, they’re pretty when they bloom, too,” he muttered busily, “But they don’t bloom until late Spring or early Summer… may I?” he asked, reaching slowly for the last stem of Baneberry in Yeonjun’s hand, their fingers brushing ever so slightly.

“Oh, sorry,” Yeonjun blushed. They held each other’s gaze for a moment, the florist smiling fondly at him with those eyes again as Yeonjun held his breath.

“It’s okay,” Soobin said gently, breaking their eye contact to finish the last of the bouquet.

He slipped his hand under the table and pulled out a single square sheet of brown craft paper, carefully wrapping the sheet around the bouquet in a diamond fashion, folding up the bottom corner to leave the stems hanging out from under the robe of paper.

He walked toward the peg board, Yeonjun following closely behind, and looked thoughtfully at his selection of colored ribbons, nodding his head side to side in a sing-song fashion. Yeonjun couldn’t help but smile at the tall man’s adorable behavior.

Running a finger across the expanse of ribbons, he decided on a simple, pearly white and stretched out about two feet of it.

“Think you could help me out?” he asked, beckoning at a pair of scissors hanging from the peg board with his chin. Yeonjun was quick to pick up on his gesture and grabbed the scissors, carefully snipping the ribbon at a slight angle at the base of the roll.

“Kinda love how you actually cut the ribbon properly?” Soobin admitted with a chuckle, carefully tying the flowers about three inches above the end of the stems as he made his way back to the table. He placed the bouquet down carefully, finishing it off with a casually tied, single-looped ribbon.

He held the finished product up proudly in front of him and smiled, turning to face Yeonjun and handing him the bouquet, “For you, sir,” he said dandily, bowing his head.

The blonde laughed, bowing back as he accepted the bouquet, “It’s beautiful,” he said, holding it up to get his first, good look at it.

“Oh shit, wow… it’s actually _so_ beautiful,” he breathed, admiring the florists work. Despite how calculated Yeonjun had seen the way Soobin had put the bouquet together, there was a quality about the piece that looked natural and effortless-- as if he’d just gone out into the forest, plucked a bunch of pretty flowers, and brought them back in a haphazard handful.

The contrast of the vibrant yellow, the layers of deep and pastel purples, and bright whites gave Yeonjun an indistinct sense of comfort. The textures of the leaves flourishing out in all directions contrasting with the shiny white berries gave the bouquet a whimsical look. Yeonjun was thoroughly impressed.

“How… did you do this?” he breathed, turning the bouquet around in his hand to appreciate it from all angles.

Soobin beamed confidently as Yeonjun marvelled at his work. “Well, I kinda grew up in this store-- I’ve been around flowers my whole life,” Soobin started, stepping up closer to the other boy, hovering just above Yeonjun to pluck and adjust the bouquet over the shorter one’s shoulder. The blonde’s heart skipped a beat-- sensing the warmth of Soobin’s body from their close proximity.

“And I’m a firm believer that Mother Nature is her own artist. Certain species grow in certain areas during certain times of the year. All of these flowers you’d find organically if you ventured out into the woodlands right this minute… Mother Nature has taste, I tell you. You put flowers that exist in nature together and it’ll look beautiful without you even trying.”

Yeonjun nodded thoughtfully, appreciating the florists’ philosophical approach to his work. He held the work of art with veneration, admiring each flower with a gentle caress of his fingertips.

“You’re amazing,” Yeonjun whispered. It was Soobin’s turn to blush.

Scratching the back of his head shyly, he averted his gaze away from the bouquet, “N-no it’s nothing really--”

“No, you are,” Yeonjun breathed, looking up over his shoulder at the florist.

Soobin turned back to face the other, their faces dangerously close as they locked eyes.

Yeonjun didn’t dare move, boldly watching the taller’s dark eyes scan carefully over him.

Holding his gaze for a second, Yeonjun observed wordlessly as the taller glanced at his hat, his hair, taking his time and carefully making his way down the full expanse of Yeonjun’s face, ending with a longing look at the blonde’s soft lips, his relaxed mouth hanging open ever so slightly.

Yeonjun doesn’t miss the way Soobin’s tongue peeks out from in between his lips, wetting them subtly. Yeonjun is staring at the florist’s pretty mouth; his strong cupid’s bow, the pouty corners of his mouth, his full bottom lip. He's hit with the delicate scent of the florist's skin and wonders if Soobin can hear how fast his heart is pounding in his chest right now.

Yeonjun swears he sees the florist move, barely starting to inch closer to his face, when they're interrupted by the sound of bells tinkling at the shop’s entrance, snapping them out of their moment. The two boys step shyly away from each other, faces red as roses.

“S _oobin? Are you here?_ ”

Yeonjun hears the voice of what sounds like an older woman coming from the front of the house.

“Ajumeonie, I’m in the back!” Soobin calls, turning to Yeonjun with an embarrassed smile.

“Sorry, that’s my regular. I was expecting her today, I’m pretty sure it’s her husband’s birthday today.”

Yeonjun tries not to melt, “Ah okay, let me just pay for this and I’ll head ou--”

“No no, I made that for you. You don’t have to pay,” Soobin insisted, stopping Yeonjun mid-sentence, “Really. It’s a gift.”

Yeonjun blushed at that, “For spilling coffee on you?” he quipped.

“How ‘bout for being kinda cute?” he countered, eyes sparkling with that same familiar glint that the blonde can't quite decipher.

Completely blindsided, Yeonjun could only stare dumbly at the other boy, who smirked at that shocked expression on his face.

Before Yeonjun could muster a reply, the old lady emerged from the ivy curtain.

“Ah, there you are Soobinnie,” she said fondly. The two boys bowed politely as she greeted them each with a smile.

“Ajumeonie, it’s nice to see you,” Soobin smiled, approaching her with a big hug.

“I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t realize you were busy with your friend!” the kind woman apologized.

Yeonjun shook his head, “Don’t worry Ajumeonie, we were just finishing up! He’s all yours. I’ll be leaving now,” he said, bowing his way out of the back room, “Thank you again, Soobin.”

Soobin smiled, his arm wrapped fondly over the older lady’s shoulder, “Of course, run that bouquet through your director and tell me what he thinks. I hope we end up working together on your set design,” he said, giving him a small wave goodbye.

Yeonjun flashed him one last sweet smile, taking his bag of clothes and bouquet with him and ducking out to the front of the house.

Distantly, Yeonjun heard the old lady laugh, speaking animatedly, “Ah, what timing! He was really handsome, Soobinnie, who was that boy? Oh, and it’s Sihyuk’s birthday today, don’t you know! I want to make him a pretty bouquet to set out at the dinner table tonight!”

The conversation faded into indistinct chatter as Yeonjun made his way to the door, he couldn’t help but smile at the sound of light laughter from the back, the shopkeeper’s bell tinkling faintly as he pushed the door open and made his way back out to the street.

  
  


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Yeonjun had just finished tossing the pasta into the pan of garlic and olive oil when he heard the sound of his doorbell. Promptly turning off the heat on the stove and wiping his hands on his apron, he made his way to the door.

“COMING!” he yelled, unlocking the deadbolt and flinging the door open to find Beomgyu standing wearily at the entrance. He presumed the younger had come straight here from campus, considering he was still dressed in the same outfit he had seen him in earlier this morning.

“Man, you didn’t even change,” Yeonjun teased, “Only thing you’re wearing that I didn’t see you in this morning are those gigantic bags under your eyes-- way to accessorize Beommie!”

The blonde earned an aggressive punch to the arm at that, only making him laugh harder.

“Shut up, asshole,” Beomgyu snapped, tossing his book bag against the wall and taking off his patent leather oxfords, placing them neatly at the shoe rack by the door, “I’m so fucking hungry… smells great in here.”

“I’ve got a baguette toasting in the oven, too,” Yeonjun said, “I tried out this French bakery off The Square today, the cashier was fine as hell and the pastries were good, too. It was so good I went back there to buy a baguette after I finished my errand, but the cute guy was gone by the time I came back. Sad.”

Beomgyu threw himself onto the bar table that separated the kitchen from the living room, melting over the stool and sinking onto the counter top.

“Tekh merh wih yer nehrxt term,” he grumbled, mouth squished awkwardly onto the table as he spoke exhaustedly.

Yeonjun snorted, grabbing two plates and forks from a kitchen cabinet and setting it out onto the bar, “What the hell did you say? Weirdo.”

Beomgyu took in a dramatic breath, mustering the remnants of his strength and sanity to peel himself off the table and speak properly.

“Take me with you next time.”

Yeonjun had the baguette sliced in half and set it on a wooden cutting board, balancing it on one hand and grabbing the pan of garlic pasta in the other, setting it out onto two trivets on the counter, “Yeah of course. When hot guy is working.”

“When hot guy is working,” Beomgyu agreed, sighing contentedly at the sight of delicious food before him, “Ahh, beautiful carbs. I need you~”

Yeonjun chuckled at Beomgyu’s dramatics, “Senior year’s got you good, huh?”

“I hate it here,” the brunette said decisively, setting himself a generous serving of pasta and grabbing one half of the baguette for himself, biting hungrily into the crispy loaf and groaning in pleasure, “ _Mmhfuhck iss so gerrrrhd.”_

“Why the fuck can’t I understand what you’re saying.”

“ _Ah dunh give uh SHITH,_ ” Beomgyu snapped, his mouth full of pasta and bread, “Mm jus’ so fuhckimg hunghreh. Gawd this so gehrd. Yew half bufferh?”

“Okay, now I understand what you’re saying. And it’s annoying as hell.”

The elder stuffed his face with a fork full of pasta and hopped out of his seat to grab butter out of his fridge, chewing his bite intensely and grabbing butter knife from a drawer to take back to the counter with him. “You’re fucking right about the butter, though.”

He unwrapped the foil and helped himself to a generous chunk of golden butter, tearing a piece of baguette from off the cutting board and slathering the creamy fat generously on the warm, fluffy bread. He promptly passed the knife to Beomgyu, who after some bites of food seemed to have finally regained a portion of his consciousness back.

“This shit is fire. Thanks hyung,” Beomgyu said, smacking his mouth as he ate with gusto. Yeonjun took a moment to watch as Beomgyu cutely stuffed himself to the neck with food, smiling happily.

“Dude, I love watching you eat,” Yeonjun said, shaking his head, “You’re like a bottomless pit. Very entertaining.”

“Shurruhp. Do you half defferth?” Beomgyu tried, mouth full of aglio e olio. Yeonjun stared in awe, wondering how the little one managed to breathe, let alone speak, when he ate like this.

“Yeah, almond croissants, bro. They’re in the oven,”

The younger boys’ eyes rolled to the back of his head, “Homagah you’re amazing,” he moaned, enthusiastically scraping his plate clean, stuffing his face with the remainder of the pasta, and finishing it off with the last two inches of his baguette. No, seriously, how the hell can a normal person fit that much into their mouth at one time?

Beomgyu chewed with determination, swallowing dangerous volumes of food in increments and pounding his fist against his chest a couple times, as if doing so would help the food go down. He grabbed a glass of water and downed it in one gulp, ending the performance with a resounding burp that had Yeonjun rolling on the floor.

“Okay, ready for dessert,” the brunette said, eyes sparkling and a dribble of water dripping off the corner of his mouth.

Yeonjun grabbed the almond croissants he had left to warm up in the leftover heat of the oven. Perfectly toasted, he placed them onto the now empty cutting board he had used for the baguettes, setting it in front of the brunette, who clapped his hands together excitedly.

“Lowkey? This is my second one of the day,” Yeonjun bragged.

“What the heck? Why didn’t you get me two?!” Beomgyu whined.

“Um excuse you. Go buy yourself two,” Yeonjun grumbled, happily digging into his pastry.

The brunette rolled his eyes, reaching for his share.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Beomgyu teased knowingly, mouth full of food once again, “Nice shirt, where’d you get it?”

Yeonjun sighed; there are really only two negatives to having Beomgyu as a friend:

  1. That, somehow, he _always_ knows when something weird happens to Yeonjun.
  2. That, much like Yeonjun himself, he’s got a sharp eye for luxury material.



“What is it? Acne? A.P.C.? Essentials?”

“... Tom For--”

“ _TOM FORD?????_ ” Beomgyu exclaimed, nearly falling out of his chair, “Those shits come out to like _$500 after tax_ , why the fuck wo--”

“Because I have a story~” Yeonjun admitted with a dirty smile.

“I _knew_ it _._ Now spill. Right here, right now you motherfucker.”

Yeonjun laughed, leaning over the counter and taking another bite of croissant, “So… flowers, right?”

Beomgyu looked at him, puzzled, “Uh… yeah? And?”

  
“There’s this flower shop called ‘Ambrosia’ just outside Square, near that one thrift store we went to where you found those suspenders?”

“Ohhh… kay? I’m listening…”

“The owner’s _really tall_.”

“Taller than you?”

“Taller than me.”

“ _Taller than you,_ ” Beomgyu parroted, holding his hand to his chest in feigned shock, “And he was cute?”

“ _Cute as hell,_ ” Yeonjun confirmed in full seriousness, nodding gravely as he spoke.

“And he made that beautiful ass bouquet hiding in the corner of your kitchen counter that you didn’t think I would notice?”

Yeonjun looked behind him in a slight panic, laughing at the paper-wrapped gift and turning back to his friend defeatedly, “Uh-- yes... he made that.”

“Oooh, intrigue,” Beomgyu slid out of his seat and made a beeline to the bouquet, picking it up carefully to inspect it.

“He’s definitely the sensible type,” Beomgyu declared, observing the flowers carefully, “Probably soft spoken, but you can tell he’s introspective. Philosophical. Energetic. Totally a Sag.”

Yeonjun looked at Beomgyu in disbelief, “You got all _that_ from looking at that bouquet?”

“And you _didn’t_?” he quipped, “I thought you of all people could see that much.”

Yeonjun pushed himself off the counter and approached the bouquet, giving it another once over, “I mean, I experienced all of that first-hand so I didn’t really need to do much interpretation beyond what he already _gave me_.”

“Yeah true, I mean, seriously YJ... this looks like he just _gave you_ his entire heart,” Beomgyu stated matter-of-factly, holding up the bouquet to emphasize his point.

“... He looks like a bunny,” Yeonjun mumbled thoughtfully.

Beomgyu couldn’t help but bark out a laugh at that, “Ha! You’re fucking screwed. The fox and the bunny, huh? That’s rich. I’m really into this.”

Yeonjun blushed, snatching the bouquet from his giggling friend’s hand, “Shut up. You’re annoying.”

“YJ’s got a _cruuush, oooh oooh ooh_ ,” Beomgyu sang, earning a smack on the head from the blonde.

“No I don’t you weirdo,” the taller one defended, grabbing a large jar from a cabinet to keep the flowers in water while the other rubbed his head soothingly.

“Mmmmhm. We’ll see about that,” Beomgyu teased as Yeonjun carefully filled the jar with water and carefully placed the bouquet into it, stepping back to admire Soobin’s art.

✿✿✿✿✿

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: soob's bouquet was heavily inspired by the really pretty one hobi made on the flower arrangement run!bts episode. hobi's bouquet was my favorite out of everyone's because it looked so woodsy and organic~ but this time i used flowers that really do bloom in the early Spring in woodland regions of North America since the fic is set in Orange, CA in early Spring~
> 
> I live about two hours away from that city, but I've been to the area around Chapman University before and I thought the place was so quaint and charming. The city I created is loosely inspired by that university area (outskirts of Los Angeles) and Napa/Sonoma Valley, CA (wine country in the Bay Area).
> 
> Also, I should've posted this in Chapter 1, but any guesses on who the French bakery boy is?? 😏 I'll give you a hint: word on the street is that he's got an XS waist, too 😂 he's handsome everywhere in the world!


	3. Oooh, Soobin-ah... he’s as red as a tomato. What were you two up to before I came in, hmm?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soobin is hired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woop woop! another update! this is coming together even better than I expected~ hope y'all enjoy this chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it 💕💕

_“... He looks like a bunny,” Yeonjun mumbled thoughtfully._

_Beomgyu couldn’t help but bark out a laugh at that, “Ha! You’re fucking screwed. The fox and the bunny, huh? That’s rich. I’m really into this.”_

_Yeonjun blushed, snatching the bouquet from his giggling friend’s hand, “Shut up. You’re annoying.”_

_“YJ’s got a cruuush, oooh oooh ooh,” Beomgyu sang, earning a smack on the head from the blonde._

_“No I don’t you weirdo,” the taller one defended, grabbing a large jar from a cabinet to keep the flowers in water while the other rubbed his head soothingly._

_“Mmmmhm. We’ll see about that,” Beomgyu teased as Yeonjun carefully filled the jar with water and carefully placed the bouquet into it, stepping back to admire Soobin’s art._

✿✿✿✿✿

“You’re gonna show him the pictures, right?” Beomgyu whispered, nudging Yeonjun discreetly underneath the table.

It was Friday, meeting day, and the brunette had opted for a more cozy ensemble to suit the morning’s gloomy weather. He had layered a thin, white mock-neck tee underneath a boxy, corduroy dress shirt in a pretty shade of nude, unbuttoning the top half and pushing the collar back to give the top a unique neckline. The chunky sleeves were folded haphazardly up to his elbows, pillowing at the ends in a way that gave it a charming, art smock look. He matched his top with a pair of wide-legged check slacks in a dark brown pattern and finished the look with his favorite leather Oxfords and Yeonjun’s black beret.

After their pasta dinner a few nights ago, Beomgyu had begged Yeonjun to let him borrow his beret before he left, explaining to the elder that it would be the cherry on top to a “chef’s-kiss Friday outfit.” Yeonjun had simply rolled his eyes and threw the beret at the brunette’s face, being sure to warn him that his life was on the line if anything bad happened to his precious Kangol beret.

The meeting was almost over and Beomgyu was melting into the back of his chair, his right leg bouncing lazily as Taehyung drawled over some filming logistics that didn’t apply to either of the two boys.

Yeonjun, too, had opted for a more comfortable outfit this morning. When he woke up to a dull gray light shining through his bedroom window, he knew he couldn’t be bothered to put anything particularly flashy together today.

He opted for an old band t-shirt under a chunky, black tweed cardigan; a few layers of gold chains with varying lengths draping down his neck. His favorite pair of 501’s were the perfect shade of 90’s denim and cropped just above his ankles, the frayed edges dangling over an old pair of black, high-top Converse. With Beomgyu occupying his favorite hat and his fried mop of blonde hair refusing to cooperate this morning, Yeonjun had covered up with a canvas bucket hat and his usual, metal-rimmed glasses.

Feeling the weighty exhaustion that came with the end of the work week, Yeonjun was struggling to keep his eyes open when he realized Taehyung was speaking to him.

“Any updates on the set, Yeonjunnie?”

Yeonjun blinked the fog out of his eyes and sat up straight, “Oh, yep. I made some progress and did some research to make the setting more natural. I brushed up on what kind of plants we’d find in the woods around this time of the year…” he was flipping through his sketchbook, which he had already placed on the table in preparation for this very moment.

“Let’s see… ah, here,” the blonde said, opening up to his new sketches and sharing them with the team. Taehyung seemed extremely pleased with the improvements, much to Yeonjun’s relief.

“Oh,” Yeonjun said, perking up a little, “And I think I found a florist.”

Taehyung peeled his gaze away from the sketches to look at Yeonjun curiously, “That was fast,” he said, “Can they provide us with enough flowers?”

“Oh yeah, no doubt. The person I talked to seemed pretty confident about finding enough flowers to cover 250 square feet of space.”

Taehyung seemed impressed, but a bit skeptical, “What kind of flowers?”

Yeonjun reached into his bag for his phone, “I have some reference pictures. The florist was amazing, actually.”

He began flipping through his photo gallery; on his walk back to the bus from Ambrosia earlier that week, Yeonjun had been so enamored with the pretty bouquet that he snapped a great deal of pictures of it under the fresh, afternoon light.

“He made a bouquet with a sample of native flowers that are in bloom right now… here,” Yeonjun increased the brightness of his screen so that everyone could get a better look at the details and flipped his phone to give Taehyung a good look at Soobin’s hand-tied bouquet.

The elder gasped, “Oh it’s _perfect_. Hire them. Did you get a quote? Honestly, fuck it-- it doesn’t matter. Namjoon is an amazing grant writer,” Taehyung grabbed Yeonjun’s phone to get a better look, “I don’t know who this person is, but I love them.”

Yeonjun smiled proudly, secretly ecstatic about having another excuse to step into Ambrosia and speak to the cute owner with the dimples and bunny mouth.

“Yeah, Yeonjun loves them, too,” Beomgyu muttered under his breath, laughing cheekily as Yeonjun turned abruptly to smack the boy in the arm.

Taehyung was too preoccupied with sifting through the different photos Yeonjun had taken of the bouquet to hear exactly what Beomgyu said, but the rest of the little squabble didn’t go unnoticed by the project director.

“Ah ah ah,” Taehyung warned without sparing a glance, still very much invested in the images of the lovely bouquet, “No fighting, children. Behave.”

The dark-haired man returned the phone to its owner, “Okay, folks. It looks like we’re making progress! The shoot is in three weeks and we’re definitely on schedule, so let’s keep up the good work, yeah? We’ll see each other next week. Dismissed!”

  
  


✿✿✿✿✿

  
  


It was just after three in the afternoon when Yeonjun had finally finished his last lecture; a class on Latin American art.

The day had stayed relatively gloomy and surprisingly chilly, but, then again, Californians don’t call it the June-gloom for nothing.

Despite having a long day at the end of an even longer week, Yeonjun felt uncharacteristically energized. He’d been looking forward to finishing his classes because he knew he had a special errand to tend to this afternoon: getting a quote from florist Soobin.

Per Taehyung’s request, of course.

“What Taehyung wants, Taehyung gets,” Yeonjun muttered, shrugging to himself as he hopped onto the number 12 bus toward The Square.

  
  


✿✿✿✿✿

  
  


By the time the pink flower sign had come into Yeonjun’s line of sight, it was almost ten minutes to 4:00. He could feel his hands, stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans, getting sweaty from the nerves.

In the distance, he heard the familiar chime of the shopkeeper’s bell and watched as a gorgeous, silver-haired man dressed in business casual, stepped out of the shop with a grand bouquet of what looked to be 50 or so red roses in one arm. Yeonjun observed the tall man holding the flowers carefully; he looked like someone Yeonjun might have seen before, but couldn’t put his finger on it.

The silver-haired man had beautiful olive skin and dragon eyes. He wore a simple white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves folded neatly over veiny forearms. He had on a pair of neatly pressed grey slacks that fit him so well, one would think they were bespoke. His brown leather loafers coordinated well with his belt and watch. He kind of looked like a million dollars… that was, until he tripped on the curb and almost dropped the flowers, catching himself onto the side of his car before he could do any real damage. Soobin had jumped out to help, but respectfully backed away as the tall man shyly brushed him away, insisting that he was fine.

The man bowed and nodded thankfully to Soobin, whose face was now barely peeking out from the inside of the shop as he waved goodbye to the customer, now stuffing the grand bouquet as carefully as he could manage into the backseat of his car, parked on the curb just outside the store’s entrance with the emergency lights flashing. Yeonjun’s heart was racing.

He watched as the customer drove out onto the street, chuckling a bit because the driver seemed to have forgotten to turn his emergency lights off. Stopping in front of the flower shop, he gripped the handle decisively and hesitated.

Taking a small breath, he turned the knob gently and opened the door, quietly peeking in to find Soobin watering some of the trailing plants on the shelves.

Yeonjun watched Soobin’s head perk up at the sound of the bells.

“Hey, welco--” the florist twirled around to face the door and found himself under the gaze of the cute blonde boy from earlier this week. He smiled shyly and bowed his head.

“Yeonjun, it’s nice to see you,” Soobin smiled.

Yeonjun vaguely thought about how much he loved the way his name fell out of the taller boy’s pretty lips.

“Hey,” Yeonjun greeted shyly, gripping his messenger bag a bit tighter as he stepped fully into the flower shop, keeping his distance by the door, “I have some good news for you.”

Soobin gave him a knowing nod, “I knew you’d be back. Come here, I’ll make us some tea.”

Yeonjun blushed at that, following the dark-haired boy through the ivy-covered archway and into the den, taking up a spot at the leather loveseat this time. He noted the way Soobin pulled out the same two mugs from last time-- the white porcelain cup and the glass.

“I’m in the mood for a Rooibos tea, do you have any preference? I also have Earl Grey... Sencha… still got a few Mints left, if you want,” the shopkeeper asked, thumbing through a display of tea bags.

“I’ll have what you’re having; it’s a bit too late for caffeine for me. I don’t think I’ve ever had Rooibos before,” Yeonjun replied.

Soobin laughed, “I’m the same, my caffeine cut off is, like, 2:00 pm. If I have anything past that, I don’t sleep til 4 in the morning. Rooibos is underrated.”

Yeonjun laughed, “Exactly. But it does come in handy when I’m cramming for exams.”

Soobin was smiling as he brought the mugs over to the table, this time taking a seat at the rocking chair on the other side of the coffee table.

“Are these your favorite mugs?” Yeonjun asked, trying to continue the flow of conversation. He took a small sip of the Rooibos, “Ah-- this is really good. It almost tastes like black tea.”

Mirroring the blonde, Soobin took a sip out of his own cup, “I agree,” he said, letting out a satisfied sigh. “And this mug… was my grandma’s favorite mug,” he continued, holding up the teacup in his hand and looking at it tenderly.

His eyes drifted over to Yeonjun, who was in the middle of taking another sip, and smiled, “We’ve got a strange collection of mugs here, so when I’m in the mood I like to match the cup to the customer.”

Yeonjun stopped to take a good look at the glass mug in his hand. It definitely had a more contemporary look than the ceramic bell mug in the other’s hand.

The glass was visibly thick and looked a little more like a cantina. It had a narrow lip that opened up into a wide, round bottom and the c-shaped handle near the top was the perfect size for his two fingers to slip into for support. Yeonjun actually liked the mug a lot; he could see himself buying one exactly like this to keep at his own place.

“Can I ask why I have this one?” he asked, taking another sip and already halfway done with the drink. He decided he really liked Rooibos tea.

Soobin leaned back into the rocking chair, the wood creaking as he swayed back and forth.

“Hmm… I guess it just suits you? You’re definitely the type who knows how to make a first impression,” he began thoughtfully, his long fingers threaded through his teacup’s handles and the other hand supporting the lip on the other side. His elbows were propped up on the chair’s armrests.

“You’ve obviously developed your own style,” Soobin continued, motioning at Yeonjun’s outfit with one hand, “Your posture told me a lot, too… and the way you let your facial expressions give you away so easily--” Soobin’s charming, boyish laugh filled the room as Yeonjun turned a bright pink, covering his mouth shyly with his hand.

The florist kept on, “I thought, ‘Yeah, I can read this boy is clear as day. He gets the glass one.’”

The blonde couldn’t help but laugh, “I don’t know what you’re letting on. You must be imagining things,” he countered defiantly.

Yeonjun appreciated the other’s witty banter, but he was a rational man who didn’t fall for sweet talk so easily. There was no way Soobin was actually trying to suggest anything. Yeonjun was attractive, but he wasn’t full of himself. He knew he had a cheeky personality that could easily be mistaken as flirtatious, but he didn't go around assuming he had a chance with anyone who was a little extra nice to him. Soobin seemed like a friendly guy and the blonde could tell by his sense of humor that he was intelligent, too.

They both knew what they were doing and saying, but it wasn’t something either of them needed to read into, right?

Soobin laughed at the other’s stubbornness, relishing in the growing heat of the chase. The florist simply shrugged his shoulders with a knowing smile, “Whatever you say,” he said in a sing-song tone, leaning over to set his cup down onto a coaster and folding his hands on his lap.

“So anyway… you said you had news for me?”

The artist tilted his head back to down the remnants of his tea and placed his cup carefully onto the table, “Yup. Taehyung loved your bouquet. He stared at the pictures I took of it for like an hour-- you’re hired.”

The florist nodded contently, his tongue peeking out between a cheeky smile to wet his lips. Yeonjun totally wasn’t staring.

“Glad to hear it. Do you know how many flowers you wanted to order?”

Yeonjun opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He hadn’t really thought about that. 

Honestly? He kinda just wanted an excuse to drop by again.

Knocking himself in the head for not thinking to come better prepared, he laughed a little, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

“About that-- I… didn’t really think that far,” he admitted.

Soobin huffed fondly at the other boy, “Well, do you know what you want the set too look like? Is it really just going to be a floor covered in flowers or…?”

Yeonjun straightened out, reaching into his bag to grab his sketchbook and flipping to the drafts he made of his set design, “Actually, I’ve got some rough sketches… this is more or less what we want the set to look like,” he opened his journal up to his most recent sketches and passed the black journal to the florist, “I was inspired by what you told me when we first met-- about Mother Nature being an artist-- and I was really into it, so I redid my sketches after doing some of my own research.”

The artist had to admit, he was feeling unusually self-conscious. Yeonjun had been making art since he was a child and he knew he made good art-- he’s been doing it for years.

But watching the cute florist examine his rough sketches felt a little embarrassing. It’s one thing to show his work to his teammates and friends, but he poured his heart into anything he made with his hands. There was always an intimate quality to his work that he took pride in. He was basically showing Soobin a little piece of his heart. He hoped the bunny-mouthed boy liked what he saw.

“S-so…” Yeonjun stammered, “W-what do you think?”

“It’s beautiful Yeonjun,” the taller one breathed, “This set is going to look absolutely gorgeous. Oh, wow, look at that-- you even put the Bluebells and the Poppies! And the Bloodroot!”

“Yeah I really dig the Bloodroot,” Yeonjun said, scratching his ear shyly, “They’re even prettier when they’re growing on the ground.”

“So when’s the shoot?”

“In three weeks,” Yeonjun declared.

“Ah, I’m so excited,” Soobin chimed, his eyes scanning excitedly over Yeonjun’s sketches, taking in all the careful details, “This is the most fun commission I’ve had to date. I’m so glad you spilled your coffee all over me three days ago.”

Yeonjun snorted, “It was my pleasure.”

Soobin rolled his eyes, but the curve of his lips betrayed him, “Annoying. And you aren’t done with your set design, are you?”

Yeonjun was impressed by Soobin’s perceptiveness. No one at the meeting, not even Taehyung, had seemed to notice that his sketches were, in fact, incomplete. He had done some research on the flowers to get a sense of how they should look naturally on the floor, but he knew he needed to add more levels to the set design. As it was, he knew the layout was too flat. He wanted to create more shapes-- maybe a pathway-- to bring the backdrop to life.  
  
“You need trees,” Soobin decided, “How can you make a forest without trees?”

Yeonjun agreed, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just not exactly sure what kind of trees you’d find in the North American woodlands…”

He took a look at the florist, who was glaring at him with a single, raised eyebrow, “You do realize who you’re having a conversation with, right?”

Yeonjun laughed, “Sorry, I was unaware that trees were included in a florist’s range of expertise.”

The taller boy laughed, handing the sketches back to Yeonjun and standing up from the rocking chair, taking the now empty mugs back to a crate underneath the tea table for dirty dishes.

“Well you’re not wrong about that,” Soobin said, “I wouldn’t expect most florist’s to have knowledge about trees and regional ecosystems, but--”

“But you’re not like most florists?” Yeonjun snickered, finishing the bunny-mouthed boy’s sentence.

Soobin gave him a smug look, “You pick up fast.”

“I can be perceptive, too.”

The florist had to laugh at that. “Actually, I studied Environmental Science in college. I was about to start a job as a pedologist when my grandpa passed away. My parents are business people-- always travelling somewhere, always talking about money and stocks and boring adult stuff-- they were just going to rent this place out to ‘ _diversify their income_ ’ or whatever bullshit.”

The blonde’s heart hurt at the way Soobin’s shoulders seemed to hang a little heavier at the mention of his grandpa, “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be. I told them to fuck off and took over the business. I grew up here; ran straight here after school every day to cut flowers with my grandparents. Ambrosia? That’s my Korean birth flower. They opened this store when I was barely a year old and named it after me.”

“That’s beautiful,” Yeonjun said earnestly, watching a fondness grow in Soobin’s eyes as he reminisced about his childhood. 

“Thank you. Those two-- they were amazing. The kindest people I’ve ever known. My parents were always too busy with work to spend time with me, but my grandparents did both at the same time so easily. We have so many regulars from around town here. A lot of them I’ve known since I was a child. They’ve seen me grow up. They’re like family to me.”

Soobin started walking around the den, carefully observing each and every plant he walked past, showing them a little bit of love if it looked like they needed it, “When my grandpa passed, I knew this place had to keep going. No matter what. I think something about the timing was serendipitous though; he saved me from spending the rest of my life studying dirt for a living. Imagine that.”

Yeonjun chuckled at that, some unknown force compelling him to stand up and move closer to the boy, “I can tell you love this place. It really shows; I can see it in your eyes.”

“Yeah?” Soobin laughed as he turned around to face Yeonjun, startling himself when he realized that the blonde had moved to stand right behind him without him noticing, “Oh… hello.”

“Hi,” Yeonjun smiled, “I like it when you talk like that.”

The artist watched as something flashed in the dark-haired boy’s eyes, “Like what?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yeonjun could hear his heart racing in his ears.

“Just--”

Soobin had taken a single step closer to Yeonjun, then. The blonde’s head tilting up ever so slightly to keep his gaze. He swallowed nervously.

On the outside, Soobin seemed soft-spoken and relatively reserved; but something about the way Soobin towered over Yeonjun in this very moment betrayed every impression he thought he had of him.

There was something commanding, confident about the way Soobin held his gaze. It almost made Yeonjun feel small, but not in a bad way. Like he could fall apart in front of him right this minute and trusted that he would catch every last piece of him and put him back together better than before.

“Hm?” Soobin whispered with a coy smile, coming dangerously close. Yeonjun’s mouth hung slack, his eyes glazing over and fixated on the curve of the taller boy’s lips. Another dry swallow.

“Just what, Yeonjun-ah?”

Yeonjun snapped himself out of his own daze, shaking the fuzz out of his head and taking a couple steps back. “Aha-- sorry, um… anyway yeah… trees?” Yeonjun squeaked, completely flustered.

Soobin just stood in his spot, looking unbelievably smug as Yeonjun fiddled with his shirt.

Soobin merely flashed the other a knowing smirk and let Yeonjun make his attempt at changing the subject, sparing the artist from turning any redder than he already had.

“Hmm? What about?"

The red-faced blonde turned to face the wall, picking up flowers that caught his eye and feigning interest in the different shapes and colors.

“Oh, well I-- I want the set to look really lush. Give the floor some... some texture a-and levels, you know?" Yeonjun stammered, wanting to smack himself in the head over how small his voice sounded knowing that Soobin's gaze was burning holes into his side profile, "I want it to look straight out of a fairytale. I was thinking of piling sand on the floor to make little dips and bubbles, put a tarp over it and then cover it with, like, flowers... and stuff...” he could tell he was rambling nervously, but couldn't get himself to shut up.

“Ah…” Soobin smiled, nodding in approval, “You know, if you use a fine net instead of a tarp, you could poke the stems through it and into the sand. Cover the rest with moss. That would make the floor setup pretty easy, no?”

Yeonjun chuckled, avoiding any and all eye contact as the florist continued to hover close to him. “Can I hire you as my personal assistant? I like the way you think.”

“I thought you’d never ask," Soobin mumbled coyly, "Honestly? I was hoping I would get to do more than just order a truck load of flowers for you to pick up.”

“Is this you volunteering your free time?” Yeonjun tried, making a feeble attempt to regain some control over the florist by looking up from under his lashes and batting his eyes at the dark-haired boy.

Soobin smirked, “Sorry, I don’t work for free.”

Yeonjun only laughed in response, trying his best to keep up the facade.

“But,” Soobin began, moving closer to the boy with that same coy smile from just minutes ago, “I do accept… _other_ forms of payment.”

Yeonjun suddenly stepped back in defense; he hadn't anticipated that Soobin would react this boldly. His eyebrow raised in suspicion, “What do you mean by _that_?”

The taller boy only stepped closer, almost caging Yeonjun into the corner of the room, “I mean… instead of paying me with money--”

Yeonjun stared in disbelief as Soobin boldly approached him, reaching out his hand to carefully brush the blonde’s bangs away from his eyes. The florists’ fingertips just barely grazed Yeonjun’s cheek, making his heart flutter.

Yeonjun let out a nearly inaudible gasp that only made Soobin grin wider. Gaining confidence, he let his fingers trail down the side of the smaller boy’s face, stopping right under his chin. 

Soobin touched Yeonjun so tenderly you would think he was a delicate little flower, himself. His hands felt so soft against his face, the blonde felt like he was floating in the florist’s hands-- the man regarding every inch of Yeonjun’s face like he was a work of art.

“How ‘bout you repay me with a little bit of your time, hm?” Soobin purred, tilting his face ever so gently and forcing the blonde to look into the taller one’s chocolate eyes. Yeonjun was a goner.

“I-- I--” Yeonjun stammered nervously, Soobin watching patiently as he searched desperately for his words.

The sound of the shopkeeper’s bell saves Yeonjun once again from further embarrassing himself. Soobin looks over towards the archway as an amiable voice calls his name.

“Soobin-ah! I’m here! Sorry I’m so late, I know you’re almost closed!” the voice called out as Yeonjun took a second to lean against the wall, catching his breath for a split second as he watched the owner walk in the direction of the animated voice.

Out from under the ivy archway emerged a beautiful, golden-skinned man in a checkered green paper boy hat; his heart-shaped smile as bright as the Sun itself.

The man looked like he just came straight out of a hip-hop music video; dressed in a dark green t-shirt and a khaki fisherman’s vest. He had on some baggy Dickies and chunky sneakers.

“Ah Soobin-ah, it’s nice to see you bro,” the customer said, reaching out his hand to dap the florist up.

To say it was entertaining to watch how Soobin flawlessly returned the greeting would be an understatement. The tall boy reached out his hand to link with the other’s and they pulled their shoulders together, Yeonjun trying his best to hide his chuckle as the man in the hat gave Soobin a firm pat on the back. To Yeonjun, Soobin was such a softy that never in his life did he think he would ever bear witness to the florist dapping up with anyone. He had to admit he was impressed; the florist didn’t look awkward in the slightest.

“Nice to see you, too, Hoseokie hyung. I’ve got your bouquet right here. How’s Yoongi hyung?”

The man, Hoseok, pulled away and stuffed his hands into his pockets, watching as Soobin made for a sunny bouquet of orange and yellow flowers that was sitting at the center table.

“He’s doing great. The artist he’s working with is dropping her EP tomorrow! We’re celebrating with a fancy dinner at La Bodega tonight… _Wow_ , it’s beautiful Soobinnie~” Hoseok said, taking the bouquet with two hands and holding it up with outstretched arms. Admiring the bouquet, the man picked fondly at the flowers.

Soobin nodded, “White Irises for hope and admiration, orange Roses for passion and energy, yellow Tulips for cheerful thoughts, and, of course, some Heather for good luck. Tell Yoongi hyung I said congratulations.”

Just when Yeonjun thought Hoseok’s smile couldn’t grow any bigger, it did. The customer reached out to grab Soobin’s shoulder fondly as he regarded the bouquet with a new appreciation.

“Ah, you’re always so thoughtful, Soobin-ah~” the older man said, lifting the hand resting on the florist’s shoulder to pinch his cheeks fondly, “You never fail to impress hyung!”

Soobin swatted Hoseok’s hand away, rubbing the side of his face with a pout, “Hyung, you’re embarrassing… I’ve got a customer,” he hissed.

“Eh? You do?” Hoseok glanced around the room in search of another body, his face landing on Yeonjun who had been busy trying to disappear into the corner of the store undetected. Their eyes met and Yeonjun couldn’t stop the blush that formed on his ears as he waved at him timidly.

Hoseok barked out in laughter, “What’s this? _Oooh Soobin-ah_ ... he’s as red as a tomato. What were you two up to before I came in, hmm? _Hmm_?” he teased, nudging his elbow into the florist’s side and wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. The two burst out into laughter. Yeonjun was willing himself to melt away into the floorboards.

“No, no, it’s not like that hyung,” Soobin smiled, waving his arms out in front of him to dismiss the older’s suspicions, “He’s a student at the university. He’s working on a set for a music video and needs some flowers.”

“Ah, I see. Do you need some backup dancers for your music video? My company still has some openings in our schedule,” Hoseok teased, laughing boisterously before settling himself down. “Ah, I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Sorry for picking this up so late; I know you close in like… five minutes,” he said, taking a brief glance at his watch, “I got caught up with some paperwork at the studio, so I had to hang back for a few hours to straighten everything out.”

“Don’t worry about it hyung; you know you can come pick up your order any time. I’m just upstairs,” Soobin said.

Hoseok nodded, giving Soobin’s shoulder one last pat goodbye, “Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone... thanks again, Soobinnie!”

The older man waved goodbye as he ducked out of the room, the sound of bells and the click of the door following shortly after and knocking Yeonjun back to his senses.

“Ah! I-- I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you closed at 4:30,” Yeonjun stammered.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’m always here,” Soobin said, “If you’re not busy right now, I don’t mind helping you finish up your set design at my place.”

Yeonjun was caught off-guard by Soobin’s forwardness-- this was only his second time meeting up and he was already inviting Yeonjun to his house? Yeonjun had come here by bus; did he expect to give him a ride in his car, too? Things were progressing at an unusually fast pace.

“Oh, I mean… I sort of came here by bus, so I wouldn’t know how to go about… getting to… your place?”

Soobin looked puzzled for a split second, before realizing Yeonjun’s assumptions and letting out a laugh.

“Ah, sorry,” Soobin laughed, making his way toward the flower wall and reaching for the mysterious mahogany door. He pulled out his pair of keys from his back pocket to unlock the door, pulling it open to reveal darkness. Reaching into the side of the corridor, Soobin flipped a switch; illuminating nothing but an old, wooden staircase.

“My place… is right here!” Soobin gestured grandly at the staircase, “Right above the shop.”

Yeonjun’s mouth hung open. That explains the closet full of t-shirts the florist had mentioned from his last visit; he _lived_ here. Literally.

Soobin seemed to be losing his confidence over the way Yeonjun had just been silently staring for the past couple minutes. Averting his gaze and scratching the back of his head in that nervous habit of his, he let out a shy chuckle.

“I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I completely understand… and it’s not like I let everyone up here! Not even our regulars know that this door leads to our apartment. And you’re probably busy. I shouldn’t have asked; this is kind of weird, huh? Please say something,” Soobin was rambling nervously, suddenly the exact opposite of the confident man who had cornered Yeonjun just moments ago.

The blonde, settling down from the initial shock of Soobin’s little magic trick, laughed at the other’s sudden nervousness, “I mean, if you’re literally right upstairs, that kind of changes things, doesn’t it?”

Soobin let out a sigh of relief, looking up at Yeonjun with sparkling eyes. His heart fluttered.

“Okay… cool. Super cool,” he breathed, straightening himself out and moving to take his apron off, “Let me just close up the shop really quick and we can head upstairs.”

Lifting his apron up over his head, Soobin passed Yeonjun and ducked out of the room to lock up the doors and turn off the lights.

Meanwhile, Yeonjun stood in front of the mysterious staircase as one by one, the overhead lights flickered shut until the only source of light came from behind the door, the mystical staircase radiating a warm, orange light.

Yeonjun listened as Soobin’s gentle footsteps approached behind him, thankful for the dim light as a blush dusted his cheeks when a large hand pressed itself against his lower back, beckoning the artists toward the glowing staircase.

“Shall we?” Soobin offered gently. Yeonjun nodded, stepping slowly into the small corridor.

Making his way up the stairs, Soobin trailed just behind, closing the door quietly behind them.

✿✿✿✿✿

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my favorite part about writing this story is when i make bangtan cameos 😂 with that being said.. WHO IS THE MAN IN BUSINESS CASUAL???!! And who do you think he's buying roses for? 😏 let me know in the comments! and leave me a kudos if you love this fic as much as i do 💕


	4. Well go ahead and tell the owner I'm free whenever on Sunday.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soobin and yeonjun go for takeout

Honestly, if Yeonjun didn’t have Soobin padding quietly behind him, he might have been a bit hesitant to ascend the mysterious staircase. Despite being warmly lit by a strangely comforting light, the corridor was narrow and the stairs were intimidatingly steep.

It really looked like something out of a fairytale; as if it wasn’t a door to an apartment complex at the top of the staircase, but a portal to another dimension. The warmly lit corridor smelled of old wood, with each step creaking softly as the two crept slowly up to the door.

Yeonjun reached the last step and realized there was no landing; the flight of stairs led straight to the door.

Awkwardly, he shifted to press his back up against the wall to give way for the florist, who had just reached into his back pocket to grab his keys.

In one smooth motion, Soobin slid the key into the lock and turned-- the soft click of the hinge echoing throughout the corridor.

Soobin turns to look at the blonde over his shoulder and Yeonjun wants to coo at the tinge of pink that blooms on the boy’s face.

“It’s um… very green…” Soobin mumbles shyly, scratching behind his ear. He turns the knob, pushes the door open, and suddenly Yeonjun is bathed in warm, afternoon sunlight.

The two boys step quietly into the small apartment, taking their shoes off and leaving them neatly at a shoe rack by the door. Yeonjun takes in the space with glimmering eyes, his mouth hanging lightly as he scans the apartment.

When they say there’s no place like home, Yeonjun thinks they must be talking about Soobin’s cozy little loft apartment.

The room opens up to a high ceiling and exposed, brick walls -- save for the one across from the entrance that held black-paned windows so large it nearly took up the entire wall itself. Warm, evening light flooded the loft in streams and painted the two boys in a grid of gray and gold. The structure itself was industrial, but the space was alive -- Yeonjun would even say it was _breathing_. Maybe it was because the space was bursting at the seams with plants.

Lots and lots of plants.

Soobin's apartment, admittedly, looked more like a greenhouse than it did a living space.

Every single flat top in the space was covered with some sort of greenery; plants in terra cotta pots, rusty buckets, old mugs, milk cartons, soup cans, tea kettles… the space was filled to the brim with different flora. Vines of the same ivy and pothos as the shop downstairs were trained to cling to wooden trellises pressed up against the walls and covering nearly the entirety of the leftmost wall next to the kitchen.

In the same far corner, a small, U-shaped kitchen was sectioned off by an open bar countertop for two; Yeonjun cutely notes the small refrigerator, portable gas stovetop, and countertop convection oven all in the same shade of forest green. His mind vaguely trails off to the thought of Soobin cooking dinner for himself; the beautiful view of the city just a glance over his shoulder away, the gentle streams of sunlight bathing him in gold.

The space off to the right seems to be the living area; an old record player in the far right corner stood next to a damn impressive selection of vinyls filling an entire bookcase. Next to the bookcase was a modern sofa upholstered with a tea-stained linen. In front of the couch stood a solid tree stump coffee table above a circular decorative rug that almost looked like grass in the sunlight.

Yeonjun’s eyes floated to the platform hovering just above the living space -- a loft bedroom lined with a delicate iron railing was connected to the rest of the studio by a flight of floating mahogany steps which led up to the bedroom. The only form of privacy in the loft bedroom being the elevation and that black railing made Yeonjun blush. Soobin really must live alone judging by how open the space is.

“This was… not at all what I was expecting,” Yeonjun chuckled, brushing his bangs away from his face in awe.

Soobin blushed, “You’re actually the only customer I’ve ever taken up here,” he mumbled.

“I’m honored,” Yeonjun murmured, still taking his time to appreciate the space around him, “It looks amazing here. Your grandparents used to live here?”

“Yeah, it looked nothing like this when I was a kid, but when I moved in it was… a bit too nostalgic. So I decided to brave it out and change everything. I saved all of their favorite pieces though-- that coffee table is a real tree stump; my grandpa made it himself, actually. Kept their record player and vinyls, but I’ve added to their collection over the past few years. And, of course, all of their babies,” Soobin smiled, gesturing at the amalgam of plants.

Yeonjun looked at each little pot with a fond smile, “These were all theirs?”

“Yup,” Soobin huffed proudly, “And I’ve kept every single one in great shape. I love all of them.”

“You’re amazing,” Yeonjun breathed, stepping closer to a large fiddle leaf fig tree by the window and gently caressing a leaf.

“Eh, I’m alright... I guess.”

Yeonjun took another once over at the studio. If it felt like he barely knew Soobin before he climbed up that mysterious staircase at the back of his flower shop, he feels like he can say he’s got a pretty solid idea of the florists’ personality now that he’s stepped into his living space.

Soobin, who had been preoccupied with admiring the side of Yeonjun’s face for the past three minutes, realized suddenly that he was borderline ogling at the older boy and quickly cleared his throat in embarrassment.

“Um… did you eat? Are you hungry?”

Yeonjun, still taking his time processing the space he’d just stepped into, shook himself out of his stupor, “H-huh? O-oh… no I haven’t eaten, actually…” he trailed off, “Oh but it’s okay! I’m fine, don’t worry about me at all, I can always eat when I get home,” he cut himself off, not wanting to burden the florist who had already gone out of his way to let him into his home.

Soobin frowned, “Are you sure? We can order some takeout… there’s a pho spot literally down the street that I always eat at, it’s like a ten minute walk from here--”

Yeonjun waved his hands, “No, no. Don’t worry about me I’m--” an embarrassing gurgle coming from the pit of his stomach cuts the blonde off mid-sentence

“... not that hungry,” Yeonjun murmurs, his face turning a bright pink.

The florist bursts out laughing, “ _Right_ … I’m gonna order us some food now, okay?”

Yeonjun pouts, “... fine, but I’m paying for it.”

Soobin flashes Yeonjun a dazzling smile. “No~” he says, in a sing-song voice. Yeonjun feels something in his chest flip.

The taller one seems to read his mind and holds up a hand to stop him before he can argue any further, “You like your pho with everything on it?” he asks, the number already dialed and his phone already held up to his ear with his other hand.

Yeonjun concedes, albeit begrudgingly, and nods timidly. “I love pho…” he mutters.

Soobin lets out a small chuckle just as someone picks up the phone on the other end.

“Hi May! It’s me… haha yeah I know right? How’s everything been for you guys? Good, good I’m happy to hear that.... Yeah just putting in an order. I think we’ll do two number ones… mhm… and-- um hold on--” Soobin covers the phone to look at Yeonjun with shimmering eyes.

“Do you like spring rolls?”

Yeonjun swallows thickly as he nods, trying very hard not to seem obviously affected by the sparkle in the dark-haired boy’s eyes. 

“-- okay and an order of spring rolls… and, wait sorry--” Soobin turns to Yeonjun once again.

“Do you like thai tea?” he asks, playfully -- as if he already knows the answer -- his close-lipped smile turning up at the corners like a cat.

Yeonjun can feel his face heating up as he manages yet another dumb nod.

Soobin smiles at him knowingly and leans back into his phone, “And two thai teas, please May~ I think I want egg rolls, too, actually... Oh! And an order of banana fritters with ice cream~” he smiles as he speaks and Yeonjun finds it unbelievably endearing, observing the florist fondly as he orders away.

The younger turns to him one last time, “Last chance… want anything else?”

Yeonjun laughs as he shakes his head, finding it adorable that Soobin is still offering _more_ food on top of everything he’s already ordered.

Soobin pouts, “You sure?”

Yeonjun’s still laughing as he waves his hands in front of him, “No, no that’s more than enough, Soobin, thank you.”

“Alright... if you say so,” Soobin shrugs, turning back to his phone for the last time, “-- Yeah I guess that’ll be all, May… Hmm? Huekai? Oh no he’s not here tonight, I think he mentioned something about a project due at the end of the week, so I haven’t seen him in a few days…”

A strange chill travels up Yeonjun’s spine when he hears the unfamiliar name.

_Huekai? Who’s Heukai?_

The blonde notices the way his heart picks up its pace ever so slightly and the strange pressure in the bottom of his stomach. He swallows the small lump that’s formed in his throat and squirms a bit in his place. If May on the other line is asking about this Huekai person, then he must hang out with Soobin a lot.

The reality that Yeonjun has no idea about Soobin’s love life suddenly dawns on him and he’s not exactly happy with the thought of it. Is this Huekai person Soobin’s…? No... Soobin was _definitely_ flirting with him downstairs, right? Or was he imagining things? What if this guy’s actually the type to just mess around? He supposes most people their age are typically just into casual dating. He said he doesn’t bring _customers_ up here into his place, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t bring… _other people_ ….

“Yeonjun?”

The blonde shakes himself out of his train of thought and turns in the direction of the voice that snapped him out of it.

“Huh-- hmm?”

Suddenly, Soobin’s face is dangerously close to the older boy, a small wrinkle of concern knit between his full brows, his eyes sparkling that _damn sparkle_ again, and his lips turned up in a cute pout. The florist is scanning Yeonjun’s face worriedly and he gasps as he puts distance between him and the dark-haired boy.

Soobin backs away at Yeonjun’s reaction, holding his hands in front of him defensively, “Sorry! Sorry… you’ve just been, um… quiet… since we came up here,” he mumbled, looking away dejectedly. He scratches the back of his head in the way that Yeonjun noticed he does when he gets shy.

“I’m sorry. Is this… weird?” the florist asks quietly.

“No!” Yeonjun replies, a little too quickly and sounding a little too panicked for his liking, he clears his throat awkwardly to try again, “Sorry… no, it’s not weird. I’m just a little um embarrassed by your hospitality--”

Soobin’s eyes widen in terror, “Oh no-- is this too much? I’m sorry if I’m being too forward, I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I just think you’re--” he catches himself before he speaks any further and proceeds to literally choke on his own words, coughing awkwardly into his hand and retreating a bit further away from Yeonjun, his ears dusted with a tinge of pink.

Yeonjun tilts his head, “I’m what--” he asks.

“Nothing!” Soobin cuts him off quickly and follows it up with an equally awkward laugh, “Ha ha… should we, uh, walk over there now? Better to be a little early. Don’t want the ice cream to melt too much.”

Yeonjun can’t help but laugh, completely taken aback by the taller boy’s sudden shyness. He wonders if this is really the same guy with the hushed voice that cornered him in the back of Ambrosia.

Yeonjun laughs, the thought of Huekai completely escaping him after witnessing a flustered Soobin, “Yeah, just lead the way. I’m actually starving.”

The florist laughs, “Tell me why I knew you were hungry?”

The blonde shrugs, “I dunno… kinda creepy if you ask me.”

He earns a scoff from Soobin at that, who rolls his eyes with a smile, “Yeah, sure… let’s go?”

The two of them turn back toward the door, Soobin opening the door for the other boy. Yeonjun smirks as he takes a step back down into the narrow staircase.

“Weren’t we just here?”

“Shut up.”

✿✿✿✿✿

It was dusk when they had stepped out through Ambrosia and onto the street, the air dusted in a hazy purple and the cool air inviting against Yeonjun’s cheeks. The walk to the restaurant was comfortable, Yeonjun learned that Soobin was quite the homebody -- a lazy boy who liked to stay in and sleep or play video games on his days off (Ambrosia was closed on Sundays and Mondays). 

Soobin then asked Yeonjun about what kind of art he makes, which opened the floodgates and allowed Yeonjun to talk animatedly and endlessly about all the different mediums of art he’s had a chance to dabble in for his major. Yeonjun couldn’t stop himself from rambling on and on about art history and film and his favorite 2D mediums and how he wants to get into sculpting or woodworking next semester. Internally, he was fully aware that he probably sounded like a fucking nerd but he was physically incapable of shutting the fuck up. It didn’t help that Soobin, bless his soul, asked great questions and seemed completely invested in every single nerdy term that fell from his mouth like word vomit.

Yeonjun had just finished a short spiel on why the Fin de Siecle era was a turning point in history that completely changed the way humans viewed, created, and experienced art when they arrived at the restaurant. When they walked in to pick up their order, the owner had generously given them some extra treats on top of their order (they really love Soobin over there and Yeonjun really can’t blame them). Yeonjun made sure to drop them a generous tip on top of what Soobin had already contributed, and they walked back to Ambrosia with four bags of takeout, one in each of their hands, their shoulders brushing against each other the entire time. 

Their conversations flowed so effortlessly that both of the boys had completely forgotten why they had even gone up into Soobin’s apartment in the first place. The two talked about everything under the Sun-- what Yeonjun did over vacation last Summer, the one time Soobin closed the shop for two whole weeks so he could go backpacking around Berlin, Yeonjun had bravely pulled up a few of his past video projects and some photos of his art, Soobin boldly asked Yeonjun if he could commission a painting to put up in his studio.

“You’d really want one of my pieces?” Yeonjun asked, grabbing his tea and taking a long sip, “Ah, that’s good.”

Soobin nodded as he took a hearty bite out of a spring roll, speaking with his cheeks full, “Youhr arf if boofiful.”

“In English, please?”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh, his hand coming up to cover his mouth in an effort to avoid any unwanted projectile spring roll.

“Ah fed… YUHR ARF IF BOOFIFUL,” he repeated indignantly, refusing to speak with an empty mouth like a regular person and earning a boyish laugh from the blonde seated across from him.

“Now I just want to throw this egg roll at you.”

“Do it. I’ll catch it with my mouth,” the other boy said, swallowing the last of his bite and going in for a mouthful of pho.

“Bet you can’t,” Yeonjun challenged, proceeding to stuff an impressive mouthful of pho into his face. He held up an egg roll in his free hand and made eye contact with the boy across the table, raising his eyebrows in wordless communication as he continued to shovel noodles into his mouth. Soobin responded by chewing down his bite of food and swallowing as fast as he could. He nodded once and opened his mouth.

“It better be a good toss,” he mumbled quickly, opening his mouth up again in preparation.

Without lifting his face from the trail of noodles he was working on, Yeonjun tossed the egg roll right at the dark haired boy. The deep fried projectile veered to the left from being tossed at an awkward angle, but Soobin was able to compensate, just barely catching it with his teeth. 

“MMMFPH!” Yeonjun cheered, slurping up the remaining length of his noodles and sitting up to bring his fists up in the air in celebration, eyes wide. Soobin used a hand to quickly push the rest of the egg roll into his mouth before mirroring the gesture, chewing proudly.

“Told you,” he said, his mouth half full. Yeonjun’s eyes smiled as they both chewed contentedly at each other.

The rest of the meal went pretty much like that. Yeonjun liked to be a snarky little smartass with a rude sense of humor, Soobin didn’t take himself seriously enough to get offended by Yeonjun’s crass teasing and was witty enough to throw Yeonjun’s shitty sense of humor back at him at an impressive pace. Soobin liked the way Yeonjun’s entire brand involved him acting like a pretentious piece of shit without actually being one. Yeonjun appreciated the fact that Soobin was smart enough to keep up with the act.

Two hours later (they were talking quite a bit) all four bags of takeout were as good as empty and the two boys sat across from each other with full bellies and content smiles on their faces.

“That was delicious,” Yeonjun sighed, rubbing his belly.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had pho,” said the florist, “And by so long I mean last week.”

The blonde snickered, “So much for working on that set design, huh?”

Soobin smacked himself in the head, “Honestly? I completely forgot.”

“Honestly? Me too.”

The two shared a laugh, looking fondly at each other.

“Guess that means you’ll have to stop by another time,” Soobin shrugged. Yeonjun had to snicker at that, too.

Tempting as it was to shoot back another one of his snarky replies, the blonde decided to take the bait, “Hmm.. I guess so.”

Soobin raised his eyebrows, likely expecting that snarky reply, and sat up a little straighter in his chair. He cleared his throat a little before speaking again, “Well Saturdays get pretty busy, but we’re closed on Sunday. Might be able to get you in on Sunday, honestly... not to brag but I kinda know the owner.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes at the lame joke, but the smile on his lips betrayed him, “Well go ahead and tell the owner I’m free whenever on Sunday.”

The florist flashed that sparkling smile again, “The owner says you can come in, but not for free.”

Yeonjun pouted, throwing the other boy a skeptical look, “What’s your price?”

The look on Soobin’s face was dangerous and in a split second of panic, Yeonjun vaguely wishes he had gone for the snarky remark, instead.

“Don’t tell him I told you this, but,” Soobin leaned in towards the blonde, clasping his hands together as he leans over the table, “I think he kinda wants to take you out.”

Yeonjun decides that he was glad he took the bait and crosses his legs and leans back into his chair, stuffing his hands into his pant pockets. He’s got a shit eating grin on his face as he speaks, “Oh? Like on a date?”

Soobin seems to contemplate the question for a bit, “Hmm… I guess so? Kind of like a date, I guess,” he decides to play it cool, “Nothing serious.”

Yeonjun uncrosses his legs and mirrors the dark-haired boy across from him, clasping his hands together over the table so that their interlaced hands are just barely brushing against each other. He leans his face in closer and looks up at Soobin from under his long lashes.

“Ask him when,” Yeonjun says with a low, breathy voice.

“He said to meet in front of the store Sunday morning… around eleven,” Soobin replies with a smirk, not skipping a beat.

Yeonjun feigns consideration and pulls out his phone, pretending to scroll through his calendar while the screen stays pitch black, Soobin chuckles.”

“Tell him I’ll be there.”

  
  


✿✿✿✿✿

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kadlfaldfhjadlfkahdf;alkdjf sorry I haven't uploaded in like forever!!!!! summer classes k'd me T^T gonna try to update this a bit more frequently, but I need motivation! Send me a kudos and leave me a comment so I know this fic is actually being read and is worth continuing (iN insEcURe)

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: when I was doing research for this fic, I looked up a lot of references for the meaning of different flowers to come up with a good name for this work. ambrosias represent a returned, or mutual love, which i thought was perfect for the vision i had for this fic, which was inspired by the queen of eternity album, fairy of shampoo, herself. i freaking love everything about this song and want an mv for it so bad because its just beautiful and their last live of it was the little prince themed, which is one of my favorite books of all time.
> 
> ANYWAY, when deciding on a name for soob's family flower shop, i thought it would be a cute idea to have his grandparents name the shop after his korean birth flower (if you don't know, in korean culture there is a birth flower system, but instead of a flower for every month like in western cultures, they have a flower for every day of the year!). his birthday is on dec 5, so i searched up his korean birth flower and... y'all... HIS BIRTH FLOWER IS AMBROSIA.
> 
> I can't make this up. I had to verify it on two other websites to make sure it wasn't a mistake. call that serendipity!!! 
> 
> P.S. my korean birthflower is HOLLY HOCK! what's yours??? let me know in the comments! leave a kudos if you enjoyed this fic <3


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